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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28754496">Part 1 - Broken Bits:  A Love Story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsAditu/pseuds/MsAditu'>MsAditu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Broken Bits: A Love Story [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate, Dungeons &amp; Dragons - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Healing, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Spoilers, Vampire Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:27:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>61,284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28754496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsAditu/pseuds/MsAditu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the story of Astarion, as played in current "Early Release: Baldur's Gate 3."  </p><p>Part 1 is a series of relevant, connected interactions from the canon game (Astarion and diverse F/PC perspectives).<br/>Part 2 moves from Faerun to the real world.<br/>Part 3 will conclude in Faerun, non-canon storyline.</p><p>The traumatized recognize each other - a romance is born from their mutual ashes.  A story of self-realization, autonomy, and light BDSM, vampire-style, because Faerun lacks good therapists.  </p><p>In three parts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Charname (Baldur's Gate), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Broken Bits: A Love Story [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue - Drow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="https://msaditu.livejournal.com/20572.html">Broken Bits:  Images</a>
</p><p> <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5phNAYOAEA1g4rL9OD7hvl?si=a8176139c3034544">Broken Bits: A Playlist</a></p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Let us test the water of Faerun from the outsiders' perspectives, both my drow PC Varae and the all-knowing narrator.  Intended meta.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to WotC and Larian, creators and inspiration, and to "The Drow Dictionary" for the deep dive into V's mind.  Where possible, I included the definition in-line to help with immersion.  A quick glossary of terms that are not made clear in the text:</p><p>BEL'LA - honor<br/>DALHARIL D' - daughter of<br/>DALHARUK D' - son of<br/>DARTHIIR - surface elf/elves<br/>ILYTHIIRI - Drow<br/>MRANN D'SSINSS - lover (male)<br/>QU'ELLAR - house (noble)<br/>VELG'LARN - assassin</p><p>Unofficial head-canon soundtrack for the Prologue: "Radioactive," Imagine Dragons, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>V came out of her meditation to a soft touch of air, on alert and readied for attack.  The camp was quiet in the early hours, but for the quiet snores and murmurs of her resting companions. </p><p>The small bit of the Weave she had woven into her bedroll still brushed her cheek.  It took only a simple knit of the Art to request such a silent warning.  Even after so long away from <em>Har'oloth</em>, the Underdark in the surfacers' language, sleeping out in the open left her twitchy.  </p><p>Her reaction to such discomforts was now rewarded.  Remaining still, eyes closed, keeping her breath steady, she searched only with knife-sharp ears and the honed senses of a predator.   </p><p>Her neck prickled with warning and her bedroll was depressed infinitesimally.  The potential attacker was behind her, near her head, silent and oh, so close.  For a moment, her mind took her back to the dark silk of Menzoberranzan - cool, close air and the great game of silent, glittering death.  Her heart quickened at the memory. </p><p>She heard a quick intake of masculine breath behind her.  It was that foppish rat, Astarion . . . And he knew she was awake.  </p><p>Fast as a snake, she snapped her eyes open and with an unlikely horizontal spin, she crouched with a slender wrist dagger at his throat.  He froze, face inches from hers, a cornered thief. </p><p>"Shit."  </p><p>Astarion's voice was low and careful, but his eyes flared white around the edges.  V was pleased - he was not immune to the surfacers' ingrained fear of her race.  He held completely still, eyes wary, every bit the roguish assassin revealed in a moment. </p><p>Brown, she had thought his eyes in the painful daylight.  But here, as close as a lover's embrace, in the gentler light of the coals, they shone a hungry burgundy.  A tiny hint of the deep lights of home shined from the face of a surfacer.</p><p>"Sneaking up on a <em>dalharil</em> <em>d'I</em><em>lythiiri qu'ellar</em> in the dark, <em>darthiir</em>?"  She spoke the word like a slur, as it should be.  "Certainly you are not so foolish as to ply your weapons against so formidable an ally."  Her voice was silky steel, low, meant only for him.  V had no need to wake the camp.  The tip of the wickedly sharp dagger rested against his artery.  She narrowed her eyes with a fierce grin, and faerie fire sparkled lightly at her fingertips. </p><p>Through his own hunger, even the monster saw the leashed bloodthirst in her face.  "No, no . . . It's not what it looks like!"</p><p>She simply crooked one slender, blood-red eyebrow and waited.  He wondered idly if their garnet color was a glamour.  His gaze slid lower, and he wondered too if she knew how the short crimson tendrils of hair drew the eye to her throat.  </p><p>He needed to step carefully.  His mind spun through the subtle manipulations of the slave. </p><p>"I wasn't going to hurt you!  I just needed . . . Well . . . "  He turned his face away, clearly fighting the urge to recoil.  His silvered hair glinted blue in the dimness, his eyes deep pools lit with fire-touched moonlight.  He let out a heavy sigh.  "Blood." </p><p>She blinked as the pieces of a disparate puzzle clicked into place.  </p><p>"A vampire, of course . . . I can't believe I didn't see it, we even found the boar you fed on."  Her voice sounded nothing but amused, yet the knife did not move.  </p><p>It was unnecessary, his mind was far from battle at this moment.  She smelled of minerals and magic, her close heat and sharp, gem-bright gaze pinned him mercilessly.  She shifted her weight, gaining some space; the movement was effortless and deadly.  "How long since you have killed someone? Days? Hours?" </p><p>For a <em>darthiir</em> with such impressive assassination skills, he looked remarkably offended at her question.  Her smile was a true one now.  </p><p>"I've never killed anyone!"  He must have seen her expression shift, as he lowered his eyes submissively, a disarming move.  Her eyes drifted unintentionally to a soft, white curl resting at his brow.  "Well, not for food."</p><p>The movement was practiced, and she distrusted it even as it sparked heat in dark, savage places.  <em> He looks like prey. </em>  </p><p>"I feed on animals, bears, deer, kobolds . . . Whatever I can get."  The words tumbled over themselves, guileless.  She wondered how old he was - this practiced art obscured a stone cold killer.  Perhaps another would miss their hidden snare - it was a trap worthy of a true <em>dalharuk d'Quarval-sharess, </em>the Spider Queen.</p><p>"But it's not enough."  The suave voice held a rough undertone, a hint of a snarl threaded beneath satin.  Fury rode him behind his thin face - rage at his long fast.  "Not if I have to fight.  I feel so weak.  If I had just a little blood, I could think clearer.  Fight better."</p><p>His subtle predator flicked a look at her, but receded immediately into hiding.  She was too perceptive. </p><p>His eyes were plaintive.  She could see a torturous need that was never quite slaked.  The dagger disappeared like magic into her sleeve, but she did not respond to his request.  A stray breeze ruffled the artless curls at his forehead as his eyes played at helplessness.  </p><p>"Please."  He added a last entreaty, when she remained silent.  He feared his words had failed to move her.  <em> Hells.  I don't want to kill her.  </em></p><p>Meeting her cut-ruby eyes burned him, but he was loathe to look away.  The intimate closeness was unfamiliar, but it was so very fascinating.  His Master would never have allowed this eye contact.  It felt like he could caress her very thoughts if he chose.  </p><p>She broke the silence, but not the spell.  "Why did you not tell me?"  She sounded truly puzzled, inexplicably so.  </p><p><em>Really, she must know how my kind is received? </em>  The sardonic noble leaked back into his gaze at her apparent innocence, her question proof that an attack was not imminent.  </p><p>He still had the grace to look uncomfortable.  "At best, I was sure you'd say no.  More likely, you'd drive a stake through my ribs." </p><p>She relaxed imperceptibly, inwardly aware of the effect his exotic features were having on her usually chilly reaction to surfacers.  That hint of <em>Ilythiiri</em> eye, the silvery curls, and moonlight skin were intriguing, beautiful, <em>ssin'urn</em>.  Surprise colored her thoughts as the urge to embrace her heritage slid through her.  She resisted the desire to command he become her <em>mrann d'ssinss</em>, take his place as her paramour.  </p><p>It passed as a chill breeze, turned aside by dark humor.  <em> One of us would probably die.  </em></p><p>Her thoughts were clear, the physical responses she could not hide revealed them to Astarion as though she spoke.  His expression darkened, but he could not allow his focus to shift.  His hands clenched - this was the crux of it, right here.  "No, I needed you to trust me."  The words were fervent, angry.  He glared defiantly.  "And you <em>can</em> trust me." </p><p>Her expression was dismissive of his efforts to convince her.  Her decision did not rest on his words.  Thoughts flitted behind her glittering eyes, emotions chosen and discarded in rapid succession.  </p><p>He saw the very moment she chose to bleed for him.  His teeth tingled, and a hot spike of very mortal desire registered low at her acceptance.  Thoughts of sweet possession turned his thoughts red. </p><p>She saw him freeze with inhuman stillness - he already knew what she would say. <em> I have not danced like this since I came to the world of the surfacers</em>.  "I do.  I trust you." . . . <em>t</em><em>o be precisely what you are.  </em></p><p>"Thank you."  He was clearly thrown off by her decision, caught between masks:  submissive slave, sleek assassin, and the lordling he fancied himself with the humans.  </p><p><em> Seeing beneath them actually makes me like him more - he hides his cunning well</em>.  <em> Impressive.  </em></p><p>That deep gaze slid to her neck, and she felt the hunger he ruthlessly held in check.  Slightly parted lips belied any true vulnerability - razor sharp points of white glittered in expectation.  </p><p>"Do you think you could trust me a little more?"  Her eyes were those of a true daughter of Lloth, a glowing river of blood that drew and ensnared him.  For a moment, he wondered who was the hunter - he moved to her like a moth to a candle.  "I only need a taste, I swear." </p><p>"Fine.  But not a drop more than you need."  She turned from him, an unexpected sign of trust.  She slipped down to her bedroll, exposing the smooth gray line of her neck.  The monster was barely in check, and he'd never seen anything more enticing. </p><p>She heard fabric rustle, and cool air against her neck.  Gentle hands lifted her close, and she swore he breathed in her scent before agony flooded her nerves.  Cool lips fastened themselves to her pain, but the tranquilizing reaction to his dark gift seeped through her quickly.  It brought a wave of nothingness, the seductive call of the void. </p><p>The vision of starved eyes faded as she surrendered to his power and let herself drift.  He felt her surrender, giving a masculine growl and pulling her unresisting body closer. </p><p>She felt so hot against his mouth, sweet blood slid down his throat, soothing the parched thirst.  He lost himself in the sensation, feeling his body respond to the feel of her in his hands. </p><p>She relaxed into him, and he pulled harder in response. </p><p>Lost in the delicious magic of humanoid blood, he felt the strength flowing from her.  Finally, a crystalline voice commanded him.  "Stop, that's too much." </p><p>"Hmm?  Oh, I'm sorry . . ." </p><p>He had been as lost as she, but he pulled away, careful to remove any remaining blood with a sly hand.  Power raced through him, a fierce fire.  He stood.  "I was just swept up in the moment.  But . . . I feel good.  Strong." </p><p>She sat up, her movements were languid.  "I'm looking forward to seeing you fight."  She remade him into her weapon tonight, her <em>velg'larn,</em> and filled him with her strength as was her right.  She wondered if he was aware of the <em>bel'la</em> she granted. </p><p>His grin was swift and dangerous.  "Shouldn't take long.  So many people need killing."  He stretched, feline and sleek - he enjoyed how she watched.  "Now if you'll excuse me, you're invigorating, but I need something more filling." </p><p>He turned away, turning his head back for a final line to their play.  "This is a gift you know, I won't forget it."  He moved from the camp, intent now on his hunt. </p><p>
  <strong> <em> You will, though, Astarion.  You always do.  </em> </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Deception</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19468.html</p><p>The story is underway, with a rough introduction of my salty and sweet PC rogue.  Meeting Astarion through her eyes was by far the most fun. </p><p> Enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, my thanks to Larian and WotC for the inspiration, and for those following along at home, the unofficial soundtrack preference is "Something Wild" (feat. Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness) by Lindsey Stirling, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Come over here, I need help!" </p><p>A cultured voice floated to Liss's ear from the top of the hill.  She scowled at the distraction, struggling to pick a lock in an abandoned crate with tired fingers. </p><p>
  <em> Sorry, looking for supplies.  I'll pass.  </em>
</p><p>"Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered."  His voice grew more demanding, holding the unmistakable entitlement of the nobility. </p><p><em> So kill it. </em>  Her only lockpick snapped off in her hand.  </p><p>
  <em> Fabulous.  Well, I guess I'll go see why he's yelling after all.  </em>
</p><p>Liss trudged her way up the path, pulling the bow from her shoulder.  She'd lifted it from a dead imp on the nautiloid, and it was in exactly the condition one would expect.  She was tired; she was dirty; she had nothing to eat and now some snot-nosed noble flagged her down like a courier for hire.  </p><p>She crested the hill, and the insistent caller came into view.  An elven man paced anxiously at the top, waiting around a curve in the path.  He looked flustered, careless curls in a riot of white-blonde, eyes wide.</p><p>It appeared he may have been on the ship - a smoking nautiloid pod had come to rest at the cliff's edge - it smelled of acrid, burnt shellfish.  <em> Hells' rotted bollocks, that's horrid.  </em></p><p>Astarion waved over the leather-clad tiefling, annoyed that she wasn't running to his side.  <em> What if I were being attacked?  I could be </em> dead <em> by now, you know.   </em></p><p>He had watched the woman take down two of those gruesome brain creatures alone, and at first he had thought to get her assistance.  Then he recognized her from the ship, and his plans changed.  </p><p>
  <em> Her and that green woman were free to move, they must be complicit - she will tell me what they've done.  Then her life is forfeit.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Test your bonds, she is vulnerable.  </em>
</p><p>The face he turned to the tiefling woman was fearful, panicked.  "There, in the grass. You can kill it, can’t you?  Like you killed the others?" </p><p><em> Togs, here, is out of his element. </em> She sighed inwardly.  He wore a wicked-looking dagger at his waist, but made no attempt to defend himself with it.  Clearly, he was less a fighter and more a fop. </p><p>"Easily."  Liss's voice was flat, her patience thin.  Still, she felt bad for him, just a little, that he was clearly terrified.  Experience taught her to expect everything to burn down, so she was at least prepared. <em>  Such a shame - he's so pretty, yet so needy.  Maybe if he didn't talk?  </em></p><p>The ridiculous gilt doublet and fine lace he wore would have fit in handily at a noble Baldurian summer party, but it was a pitiful option for the wilds.  Out of habit, she looked in vain for telltale signs of a rich purse.  <em> I can't believe I'm defending such a promising mark.  What a day.  </em></p><p>"Stand back."  She gestured at him to stay where he was and silently stepped a bit closer to his "monster."  If one of the creatures from the ship were this close, he'd already be dead.  She peered into the foliage where a patch of grass quivered. </p><p>"There, can you see it?"  His voice was suddenly close, intimate and calm, deeper, beautiful.  A shiver passed down her spine.  Her exhausted ear, however, reacted slowly to how the fear left his tone as a wisp of a cloud over the sun.  </p><p>A boar, alerted by his words, took off from its hiding place in a panic, its curly tail disappearing into the bush. <em>  Monster vanquished. </em> </p><p>"You are in no danger, it's just a boar . . . " </p><p>She turned a moment too late and found that she had been the mark.  He threw an arm around her throat and dragged her to the ground.  She hit the dirt with breath stealing force, surprised at the power in his arm.  </p><p>She was pinned beneath him, stunned at how perfectly she had been fooled.  She should have noticed the lean strength disguised by the fancy clothes, the graceful movement of a predator in the guise of prey.  Now, with that fancy dagger at her throat, she had no choice but to lie still.  </p><p><em> Curse those squids and curse this pale elf with his tousled curls and sprinkling of freckles!  How did an overdressed guttersnipe play </em>me?</p><p>"Shh, not a sound."  That silken voice purred in her ear, those warm brown eyes glinted slightly red in the sun.  "Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours."  His look became razor sharp, cunning and intent.  "Now, I saw you on the ship, didn’t I?  Nod."  </p><p>
  <em> All right, Your Elfiness, I'll comply, but only to see what in burning Avernus you want.  I'll hang onto the solid knee to the groin that you deserve, for now.  </em>
</p><p>She nodded, but she was furious.  Demon eyes, so dark a blue they appeared fully black, spit at him from beneath a shock of red braids and curls.  Curved horns were inlaid with gold, drawing attention to their sharpened tips.  </p><p><em> Fiery, this one.  Even her skin appears to reflect a flame. </em>  He slid the knife a little closer. </p><p>"Splendid."   Her eyes narrowed at his pacifying tone.  Needling her temper was proving to be terribly diverting, but he had no time for further study.  He needed information, then she would die.  </p><p>"And now, you're going to tell me exactly what you and those tentacled freaks did to me."  She just glared at him, clearly aware of the closeness of death, yet refusing to give an inch.  He was forced to suppress a feral grin at her spirit.  <em> Such stubbornness . . . Her heart beats only with anger and coiled readiness.    </em></p><p>"You have it backwards, they snatched me up too."  Her voice held no small amount of challenge and absolutely zero fear.  He had to admit, this slip of a tiefling, hissing at him with his knife at her throat and her life in his hands, was terribly intriguing.  She appeared as dangerous as a kitten, but she was as mad as a rosy hornet.   </p><p>"I saw you scuttling about on the ship.  You’re in league with them, aren’t you?"  His control was thin, and his voice lost its false sweetness.  Suddenly angry that she was his enemy, he nearly yelled in her face.  "Don’t lie to me!  I . . . argh!" </p><p>He nearly dropped his dagger as their minds connected. </p><p>Astarion saw the streets of Baldur's Gate, but not the way he knew them.  <em> Dismal, poverty-stricken . . . Rocks thrown by jeering human and elven children . . . Their faces ugly.  Rage, helplessness.  A parasite crawling into her eye.   </em></p><p>Liss winced at the onslaught of his memory in return.  <em> She's looking out of unfamiliar eyes, prowling dark, busy streets.  She tries to hold the memory, but it fades to the worm. The light. The fear.  </em></p><p>"What was that?  What’s going on?"  A new panic entered his voice, he sounded like he was ready to snap.  </p><p>
  <em> Apparently we've both had a bloody shite day, is what.  </em>
</p><p>A particular awareness slithered through his mind when his control slipped.  Her heartbeat echoed sweetly, drawing his attention to the slender neck still at the tip of his blade, smooth, fluttering with her pulse. </p><p>"I don’t know, but something just connected us."  She tried and failed to squirm out from under him, seeing the weakening of his ire.  </p><p><em> Don't.  Move. </em>  Her wriggling intensified his attention to her small form, pleasantly soft in some lovely places.  She was clearly peeved that he could restrain her, but she drew his attention in dangerous ways.  <em> She has no idea - Gods, I swear I can feel the blood rush through her veins. </em></p><p>
  <em> Relief is finally within your reach, within your control.  The sun no longer constrains you, does he?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She may have information that I need - we are similarly infected.  I will not eliminate a potential ally.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yet.  </em>
</p><p>He lowered his dagger, pulling away from her abruptly before his nature got the better of him.  He stood, doing his best to retrieve his tattered composure, but his monster fought him.  That internal rage at losing his prey spilled out into his words. "It’s those tentacle monsters. Whatever they did - whatever they put in us - just created a connection."  </p><p>She brushed off the dirt, scowling at the painful bruises that now decorated her arse.  Somehow, she found the restraint to resist giving him a matching set with her boot.  <em> Frankly, His Lordship here owes me for that courtesy.  </em></p><p>His eyes met hers, their red fire still simmering.  "You're not one of them.  They took you too, I saw it during - whatever just happened."</p><p><em> So exactly what I told you after coming up here to rescue your lying arse, then?  </em>She raised an eyebrow when, despite her obvious irritation, his demeanor changed like the flip of a coin.  </p><p>He donned a practiced smile, even through his internal chaos.  He easily read her silent judgment and found it hilarious.  "And to think, I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards.  Apologies."</p><p>She flipped a blazing red braid out of her eye, back behind her right horn.  When she finally answered, it was prefaced with an audible sigh.  "Apology accepted."  She gave her best impression of an insincere smile in return.  "I might’ve done the same were the roles reversed." . . .<em> and I was also a deceitful bandit that laid traps for his fellow victims.</em></p><p>"Ah, a kindred spirit.  My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me."  Confidence and awareness of his own charm dripped from his every gesture.  </p><p><em> A-STAR-ion.  Really?   </em> </p><p>"Ellisar, but just call me Liss."  Her tone was neutral.  "Fellow Baldurian." </p><p>"Is that so?  We clearly move in different circles."  <em> Very clearly, indeed. </em>  He moved on, recognizing a former street child when he saw one.  No use dwelling on that ill luck. <em>  Lovely and deadly, unfortunately common. </em> </p><p>Her eyebrows crashed back down at his clear implication.  <em> Rich pig, second swine today. </em> </p><p>"So, do you know anything about these worms?"  His voice resumed its conversational tone. </p><p>"Yes, unfortunately."  She let her tone thaw to deliver the news.  "They’ll turn us into mind flayers." </p><p>He blinked, for a moment losing his careful mask.  "Turn us into - ha. Hahaha!"  His laughter sounded manic, treading the line of madness.  "Of course it’ll turn me into a monster.  What else did I expect?"  He grimaced, painfully. </p><p>
  <em> In what cursed existence could I see the sun, but trade one horror for one worse?  </em>
</p><p>He retained his composure through sheer force of will.  "Although it hasn’t happened yet. If we can find an expert - someone that can control these things - there might still be time." </p><p>Well, at least he'd come quickly to the sum of their situation.  She made a quick decision.  "You should travel with me. Our odds are better together." </p><p>He looked surprised at the offer.  "You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn’t such a bad idea."  </p><p>
  <em> Wait, the herd?  Gods, the man lacks every possible likeable trait.   </em>
</p><p>His face transformed into charming elven perfection, and his voice purred.  "And anyone that can crash a mind flayer ship and walk away seems like a good person to know.  All right, I accept."  He bowed gallantly, like a great lord extending a boon to the masses.  "Lead on." </p><p>She swallowed down the urge to punch him in the gut, closing her eyes for a moment before turning back to the burning crash of the nautiloid.  </p><p>As she led them down the path, the winsome elf fixed his eyes again on her neck. </p><p>
  <em> Not yet.  </em>
</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>It was only later, as Liss led the Royal Sneak away from the road, that her temper cooled enough to engage him in conversation.  "Tell me about yourself."</p><p>When she looked back, he was sadly examining his expensive leather boots while dodging a tree root.  He was obviously dismayed by the damp mud that now clung to their once immaculate surface.  He didn't look up, just responded distractedly, "Oh, what's to tell?  I'm a magistrate back in the city.  It's all rather tedious."</p><p>
  <em> Well, that certainly explains a lot.   </em>
</p><p>The sound of a waterfall drifted through the trees, and she altered their path in that direction.  </p><p>Astarion did not elaborate, and an uncomfortable silence stretched between them.  She did not attempt again to draw him out, instead stopping suddenly within sight of the river.</p><p>She finally spoke again.  "This seems as good a place as any to make camp."  </p><p>He looked doubtfully around them, noting the muddy puddles and rocky ground.  He carefully set down the pile of dry wood she'd collected on their way, feeling useless. </p><p>She didn't look up, just began unloading the small stash of necessities they had found near the crash site.  The dead fishermen had donated a couple knapsacks and bedrolls, along with some water, bread, and cheese. </p><p>The day had been productive in that sense.  They had discovered a second bow and two small, usable daggers to split between them in the wreckage.  Clearly used to scrounging, Liss had even stripped a set of leather armor from one of the bodies for him, overriding his protests.  He looked at the pieces in distaste as she tossed them unceremoniously at his feet.  </p><p>She managed to light the fire, tearing pages from a book of sea-shanties she'd filched with her backpack.  She settled comfortably back on her bedroll with their sparse meal. </p><p>He lowered himself to a relatively dry place and spoke up, feeling out of his depth and uncertain.  "So we're resting here?  Turning in for the night?" </p><p>She grinned, the first real smile he'd seen from her.  She looked up, good-naturedly.  "What?  You've never slept in the woods before?"  </p><p>He returned the expression, haltingly.  "It's all a little new to me, I admit.  The night normally means bustling streets, bursting taverns.  Curling up in the dirt and resting is . . . a little novel."</p><p><em> Poor, Togs.  Wait until you need the latrine.  </em>Aloud, she gave him a pitying eye and responded, "Give it a try.  We'll need to be fresh tomorrow." </p><p>She expected him to turn up his nose, but he surprised her with a real response.  “I’m in no place to rest yet.  Today has been a lot.  I need some time to think things through.  To process this."  He gestured miserably at his head.  "You sleep, I'll keep watch.”</p><p>Surprisingly, she found that she felt immediately safer.  "Thank you."  She had little doubt that his skills were keenly suited to the task.  "I'll sleep better for that."  </p><p>He responded with a wide smile, which the firelight turned mildly sly.  His voice remained level and calm.  “The pleasure is all mine.  Sweet dreams.”</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Astarion lay back on his secondhand bedroll, trying not to wonder what might be inhabiting it with him. </p><p>His mind refused to settle.  The knowledge that he waited for this bedamned stowaway to take what little of him Cazador had been unable to touch was almost unbearable. </p><p>The dual shock of the parasite and the first sun on his face in two centuries had broken through the numbness that he'd developed to survive Cazador.  He felt again, and it was awful - fear and loathing and rage.  </p><p>The sun's warmth on his face, the brightness still visible behind closed eyelids reminded him of what he had lost.  Yet he turned his focus to the small bit of hope that lit a dark place in his mind, willing his body to find its rest.  </p><p>
  <em> Still, so far freedom has included a decided lack of civilized amenities . . . and a disgusting amount of mud.  Worth it?  Yes.  Enjoyable?  No.  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Interlude 1:  Daywalker Dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/20340.html</p><p>Astarion's dream sequence. </p><p>The best soundtrack for the Dreams is silence.  Enjoy . . .</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you, as always, to Larian and WotC, and a quick call out as well to AlanaSP for Astarion's playthrough, courtesy of the Early Access Origin Character Unlocker found on Nexus.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I walk on silent feet in the early hours, the night unfriendly, threatening, mist and misshapen trees keep their secrets, but this is a familiar terror.</p><p>Nothing moves, but I feel His presence - he searches for me, as I knew he would.  </p><p>"Hello? Anyone there?" </p><p>
  <em> First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.  </em>
</p><p>His hated voice echoes all around me, turning a stomach long dead.  I would kill him if I could, but 200 years has proven me incapable of denying his smallest command.  I must instead turn his eyes from me, as his attention never fails to torment. </p><p>"Master?  I was just coming to see you!" </p><p>There is no response, only the rustle of the forest.  My sire conceals himself, but to what purpose? </p><p>
  <em> Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.  </em>
</p><p>His voice is insistent, angry - he must believe that I somehow escaped him.  I know this dance, but the steps are fluid, changeable, depending on mood and moment.  Though I despise it, I turn my tone apologetic. <em>  If only I can make him see, perhaps the punishment may be light.  </em></p><p>Aloud, I try to explain.  "Absolutely.  It's just that I was kidnapped by a tentacle-faced . . . "</p><p>
  <em> Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.  </em>
</p><p>He cuts me off, and there seems no way to head off the coming storm. <em>  Think, fool, there is no place for you to flee, no place to hide, if this storm breaks upon your head.  </em></p><p>I assume my most charming mask, perhaps if I can distract him from his purpose, he will take his pleasure rather than flay me.  I am sickened by my cowardice, my willingness to debase myself to his whim, but experience has shown that self-respect will not protect me from Cazador Szarr.  <em>He will take me, or he will take me apart.  I know enough to beg for the former.</em></p><p>
  <em> Fourth, thou shalt know that you are mine.  </em>
</p><p>And suddenly, he is in front of me, volatile and sly, materializing from the fog.  I do not approach, I only bow, groveling by necessity.  "Please, you have to forgive me." </p><p>
  <em> Pathetic, but at least you know your place.  You are mine, forever.  </em>
</p><p>My mind rebels; strangely I fight a new urge to attack him, to tear and rend until this threat is gone.  I have barely the time to register the blind rage that has awakened in me before  </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>I awaken on my bedroll, mercifully torn from the nightmare.  I am still caught in the tendrils of the dream, the panic overwhelming rational thought.  <em> I must return, I must fly back to him, lest he flay me . . . I cannot take another of his creative tortures . . .  </em></p><p>I fight to gain control over the fear, eyes closed, head down, focusing on anything real.  The low crackle of the flame, the rushing of the waterfall, the uneven rocks beneath my bedroll.  The quiet murmur of my sleeping companion.  </p><p>Slowly, the shaking stops, my thoughts reasserting themselves over the chaos.  I am changed, I can walk under the sun.  He will be angry, but this new power might put me beyond his reach for the moment, a temporary respite from his fury. </p><p>And then, a more insidious thought. </p><p>
  <em> If I am free from the dominion of the sun, perhaps I am free of you, as well, Cazador.  </em>
</p><p>My eyes drift to my companion, breathing deeply in her sleep.  </p><p>
  <em> Cazador's first rule.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You could know, tonight.  You could feed, satiate the pain of denial, break this long fast.  </em>
</p><p>Without a thought, I find myself crouched at her side, listening to the siren song of her heartbeat, her scent teasing and sweet.  So much blood flowing through her, I could take just a bit, be away before she knows I took such liberty.</p><p>The curiosity, the Hunger, holds me in place while my mind whirls. </p><p>Yet, I do not touch her. </p><p>In the end, it is the newly born rage birthed in my dream that takes me from her side, resisting the thirst that tries to force my hand and overwhelm my will.  I turn to the forest to seek the weak subsistence of some beast. </p><p>It is for the best.  I may yet find my new companion an ally in gaining control of the tadpole and destroying Cazador.  I will not allow the monster to take the place so recently vacated by Cazador. </p><p>
  <em> You resist, but you are pathetic, just as he said.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I will not take her.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You fight against your nature.  You will fail.  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Duels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19728.html</p><p>My appreciation for your patience on this addition, much of the story is written, but this one needed hatched entirely.  Meet Amera, my elven wizard and inspiration to obtain Daisy's lovely robe.</p><p>Fun times - I could not love the multi-level conversations Larian gave to our favorite elf any more.  Plus, I got to write a fight scene.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My thanks, of course, go to WotC and Larian, with special mention to Synyster328, creator of the "Add All Items" mod on Nexus, who allowed me to make Amm sparkly.  Finally, appreciation to  "The Tel'Quessir Online Translator" for the Elvish translations. A quick term not made clear in the text:</p><p>QUESSIRAR - adult Elven male</p><p>This chapter's unofficial soundtrack addition is "Accoustic #3" by Goo Goo Dolls, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning had been unexpectedly productive, and Amera was feeling somewhat more hopeful.</p><p>Two other infected survivors had joined their cause:  a storm-centric wizard by the name of Gale (which she strongly suspected was a pseudonym chosen purely for effect) and the half-elf she'd failed to rescue on the nautiloid, who all but admitted to giving them a false name.  </p><p>"Shadowheart," as she called herself, was one of the most prickly people that Amm had ever met.  It appeared her nimble-fingered companion agreed - the woman had been beating on a temple door for some time when they came upon her, and Astarion picked the lock just as she finished telling them how it would not open.  </p><p><em> Obviously, I don't encourage such antics, but it was amusing . . . and well-earned. </em> </p><p>The human wizard acted the intellectual egotist almost immediately, discounting her magical knowledge and implying that her abilities were far beneath his own.  She had known many like him at the academy, but such behavior never failed to set her teeth on edge. His charm was oilier than the Baldurian magistrate's in its own way - within moments of his oh-so-timely arrival (suspiciously convenient by the way), he had already made eyes at both herself and the priestess. </p><p>Under normal circumstances such things would have inclined her away from them both, but the situation was far from ideal.  Case in point, she slid her eyes toward Astarion, she met the first of her party with his knife at her throat.  <em> Hopefully our mutual goal might sway my colorful companions toward more reasonable behavior going forward.   </em></p><p>Her gaze caught for a moment on the enigmatic <em>q</em><em>uessirar</em>.  She came out of her Reverie in the wee hours to find him meditating on his bedroll.  He did not react when she left the campfire, so she turned her attention to her morning ablutions and settled the camp for the day.  Once he rose, he declined to break his fast and disengaged completely until just a few minutes ago.   </p><p>He looked up and met her eyes - she visibly started, having forgotten that she was staring at him while she wool-gathered.  It was clear he had been aware of her regard.  For all that he had not spoken to her, his eyes were intense. </p><p><em> Oh, Hells. </em> She dropped her eyes with a light flush creeping into her cheeks. </p><p>They stood now, their nascent group of four, just inside the temple door, which had opened into a dark and musty set of tombs.  Shadowheart had hoped there might be supplies here, and they desperately needed them. </p><p>Astarion and Shadowheart canvassed the room, but he noticed that Amera was carefully lighting the ancient candelabras with Gale, a small flame dancing at her fingertips.  As far as he was concerned, she should just leave the human to his own devices in the dark.  </p><p>Astarion was decidedly irritable, stalking away from the door alone, and not only because his hard-won rest had been interrupted by Cazador.  It seemed his lovely companion was in the habit of picking up strays - even ones who were clearly sketchy. </p><p>
  <em> And I should know.  </em>
</p><p>If the cleric was not a fellow Shar follower, he would be truly stunned.  That the auburn-haired wizard had invited both him and this "Shadowheart" into her confidence showed a remarkable lack of judgment. </p><p>At least he knew where the priestess stood, though - he could not say the same for the wizard who conveniently walked out of a portal right when they passed.  It did not help that he was completely insufferable - within moments of their encountering him, he had simultaneously insulted Amera's magical abilities while trying to impress her with his intellect.  </p><p>
  <em> It makes me want to aggravate him, if for no other reason than diverting his attention. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Perhaps you should look into that a bit further.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't be ridiculous, I'm simply protecting my investment.  </em>
</p><p>Regardless, something was off about the human - even in his constant state of low-level bloodlust, the wizard smelled so terribly wrong that Astarion had no interest whatsoever in his blood.  He would bear watching, both for these oddities and his overly familiar behavior. </p><p>
  <em> Interesting, that last bit.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don't even start on that path again, it benefits me to keep her alive.  She is clearly more malleable than the others.  </em>
</p><p>Still, he had felt her eyes on him, and it had not been unpleasant. </p><p>So far, the tomb was underwhelming.  While there seemed to be an overabundance of broken pottery and traps, their search for supplies was fruitless.  They worked their way through the second room, finding some scattered gold and gems and old weaponry.  It was not immediately clear to whom the temple was even dedicated, as the language of the inscriptions predated even him.  </p><p>Amera called to him from across the room, the other wizard following her closely as the space slowly brightened.  <em>Obviously a ploy - any novice wizard has a Light spell. </em> "Astarion?" </p><p>Astarion sauntered her way, taking the opportunity to noticeably insert himself between the two wizards.  He leaned against the door frame in what he was certain was an intimidating pose.  His face remained pleasant and attentive, but he radiated something else entirely.  "Yes, my dear?" </p><p>"Just wondering if you could get us past this door?  The air coming through is a bit more fresh." </p><p>"My pleasure," he purred, and slipped his picks from his sleeve. </p><p>Amm tried not to notice his long fingers work their magic, but she failed impressively. Fortunately for her sanity, the door opened easily, and he didn't seem to notice her discomfort.  </p><p>They filed into a large temple area together, silent penitents haunting a long destroyed sanctum.  Soft light filtered down from above, where the roof had fallen to the elements.  The whole place seemed to hold its breath, while ancient dead littered the floor at regular intervals. </p><p>"Scribes with swords?  So much for the quill being mightier, not that either one appears to have helped them much."  Astarion's humor distracted him from his own thoughts - he couldn't speak for the others, but with his history the ancient tomb was oppressive, to say the least. </p><p>Shadowheart actually responded, surprising everyone after her earlier rudeness.  "I wonder what was so subversive about their words that they commanded protection." </p><p>Astarion moved toward the center of the temple, old memories finally recognizing the large central statue.  "Jergal?  This must be ancient - no one worships the Final Scribe anymore."  Shadowheart shot him a strange glance.  "What? Don't you find it a tad unsettling that his scribes were armed when they died?"</p><p>Amm climbed the steps at the far corner of the room and caught the glimmer of metal on a stone column.  "That's strange.  There's a mechanism here in the wall."</p><p>Gale tossed her a grin.  "Well, by all means!  After you, milady." </p><p>She pressed the switch, and the wall slid smoothly into the floor.  A large gilded sarcophagus rested inside the room.  "That seems like a lot of effort to hide one sarcophagus - I expected a hidden stash of gold or . . . " </p><p>"Something just woke up down here!"  Astarion called in alarm as the dead thing in front of him creaked to a sitting position.  All across the temple area the scribes rose, and together let out an unholy sound.  </p><p>Shadowheart's tone became deadly.  "Come then, we shall use the darkness to our benefit." </p><p>Astarion went into a fast crouch as the undead thing drove a sword where his face had been just a moment before.  He heard the screech of a dagger rake across Shadowheart's armor.  </p><p>"Blasted thing!"  Her voice was full of rage. </p><p>The dead scribe on the balcony nearest the two wizards hurled a vial of acid at their feet, splashing them both with burning pain.  Amm's boot had caught much of it, but her hand had taken a direct hit.  The two turned as one, racing out of the mess.  Their eyes connected, intent clear, and Gale gave a nod.  </p><p>"<em>TORMENTUM</em>."  Their voices boomed through the room, sending two sets of magic missiles flying to either side.  Two scribes went down in smoking heaps, hammered with arcane fire.</p><p>Astarion came up out of his crouch with both daggers pointed at the throat of the undead knight.  They both connected, and he wrenched them out with a grunt of effort, but the rotting creature did not go down.  </p><p>As he pulled back for another attempt, expecting a riposte, the priestess threw out her hand.  "<em>FLAKRA</em>."  A blinding white light exploded in front of him, burning the undead into ash.  He jumped out of range of the holy flame, but it had been way too close. </p><p>
  <em> Undead spells?  Bloody hells, woman! </em>
</p><p>He turned to see Gale slump to the ground on the steps, the telltale purple glow of a sleep spell still twinkling over his head.  The nightmare behind Shadowheart withdrew its hand in satisfaction.  </p><p>Amm dropped the healing vial she had been using on her hand when she saw him fall, locating the source of the spell immediately.  She threw out her hand once more, and a second streak of arcane reprisal flew toward the skeleton.  It was thrown back into the banister as it burned. </p><p>As if in slow motion, the final undead dragged itself down the steps and buried its knife into Shadowheart’s weapon arm.  She shrieked in painful surprise, reflexively turning around and smashing it away from her with her shield.  </p><p>A dark streak was there in the space of a breath, and two daggers exited from the front of its chest.  It slumped to the dirt as Astarion pulled them out, falling into the stillness of death once again. </p><p>Shadowheart gave him an appraising look.  "You fight well.  Perhaps we may just have a chance, after all." </p><p>Her voice drifted to Amm's ear; discordant irritation slid through her at the words.  She had watched him slip back to take out the last skeleton.  It had looked effortless, almost like a dance.  Despite having lived with so many her entire existence, the group of four felt suddenly . . . overcrowded. </p><p>Shadowheart continued.  "Rising from the dead just to protect some dusty baubles.  Fools."  </p><p>Amera helped Gale off the floor.  They joined the others at the base of the steps.  Her eyes were fixed on the still glowing pile of ash left by the cleric's holy spell.  "I couldn't agree more."  She nodded absently.  "Besides, what use do the dead have with possessions?" </p><p>"Their trinkets may be worth something, all the same."  Her face was disgusted, and she tossed her long black braid when she walked past Amera.  As she went, she gestured casually and a blue glow passed over her, knitting the slice on her arm. </p><p>The group followed her back to the concealed chamber, but a low voice spoke into Amera's ear.  "Well, she is right." </p><p>Astarion watched her reaction carefully, amusement rising when her eyebrows knit into the lightest of scowls.  "I do not doubt your skills, they are quite admirable.  I simply did not believe my feedback was required." </p><p>"My apologies, I was speaking about our attackers.  Still, I appreciate having so many . . . lovely admirers."  His lips threatened to twitch with laughter, but he kept his face neutral as hers flushed. </p><p>"O-of course.  Yes, that as well."  She turned quickly away without further comment, her auburn hair whirling and settling back to her shoulders.  She picked up the soft fabric of her robe stiffly, as they entered the hidden room.  </p><p>Shadowheart had lit the candles on dais, and read the plaque aloud once they entered.  "Here lies the Guardian of Tombs.  Through knowledge comes atonement."  </p><p>Spying a dark container on the far wall, Astarion slipped over while the others were focused on the cleric.  Inside was a necklace.  </p><p>Gale spoke up beside him.  "If I'm not wrong, that little beauty holds a 'Speak with the Dead' spell.  Perhaps this Guardian has something to say." </p><p>Before Gale could reach out his hand to take the necklace, Astarion slipped the item over his head.  He strolled up to the sarcophagus. </p><p>"Shall we?"</p><p>Amera was still quietly seething about the exchange with Astarion - it did not help at all to see him and the cleric making eyes at each other over Amm's discovery. </p><p>
  <em> I am unsurprised . . . He and the human wizard both seem to be cut from the same sheer cloth.  </em>
</p><p>Still, she was interested to see about the find, and she watched closely as the two pushed the heavy lid back together.  Green mist slipped out from the interior, followed by a mummy with gold tracing his face.  Shadowheart's eyes narrowed, but she moved back to let Astarion speak. </p><p>The creature slid from its tomb, clearly not attempting to attack, but no less unsettling for that.  It had strangely preserved eyes that seemed to look right through them. </p><p>"What a strange way to awaken."  Its eyes fixed on Astarion.  It made his skin crawl.  "So he has spoken, and so thou standest before me.  Right as always."  Its voice sounded quietly amused, speaking to itself.  "Now I have a question for thee - what is the worth of a single mortal life?" </p><p>"Who are you?  The crawling out of a coffin thing is rather creepy."  He could not help but recall Cazador's nightly rise from his. </p><p>"I am not like the others that attacked you, if that is what thou asketh.  Wilt thou answer my question?"  It was clearly not going to be deterred. </p><p>"Very well." </p><p>"Then I ask again:  what is the worth of a single mortal life?" </p><p>Ever the politician, Astarion responded neutrally.  "Some mortals live much longer than others.  I cannot compare them." </p><p>"And yet it is still mortality, after a fashion."  It's eyes twinkled at him, as if it knew exactly what he was and took great amusement at reminding him that immortality could come to a quick end. </p><p>Well, <em> it looks like immortality has been less kind to him, for all his implication.  Both of us are clearly stuck here by another's will, but I make it look good.</em></p><p>"Very well, I am satisfied.  I know thy face, and I will see thee again at the appointed time."</p><p>With that enigmatic comment, the mummy turned on its heel and walked out of the room.  Astarion could hear it speaking to itself as it left.  "How long has it been . . . This place is much changed . . . " </p><p>A single sapphire balanced on the edge of the open sarcophagus.  Astarion retrieved it silently. </p><p>Gale's voice cut through the stale air.  "What I wouldn't give for a glass of wine and my bedroll right now."  He yawned, loudly. </p><p>Amm gave him a smile, and nodded.  "Same.  I say we continue this tomorrow and see if there is another entrance above.  Our supper will be unfortunately light." </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Astarion watched the two wizards surreptitiously.  Gale had caught her attention using magic to make a copy of himself to examine his reflection, then moved into an explanation of ceremorphosis.  As the two carried on, Astarion grew less enamored with the man, but it certainly appeared that his companion disagreed. </p><p>He was still immersed in his pique when she appeared before him.  He had not expected her; she had been obvious about avoiding him since he'd teased her in the tomb. </p><p>"Sounds like you've been learning all about your gruesome future."  He made a show of checking her for symptoms, but in truth, frustration with her naivete drove his needling.  "I have to say I thought you'd look worse, but no, not a tentacle to be seen." </p><p>Yet another scowl crossed her brow, as she considered his statement.  "I could say the same to you."</p><p>He clearly had not expected her to respond in kind.  <em> Ha!  He was being an arse on purpose, then.  </em></p><p>He responded smoothly, however.  "Indeed you could.  We're all doing surprisingly well, given the circumstances."  He gave her a toothy grin, which again reflected a sharp cunning.  "I'm not taking anything for granted, of course.  First sign of a change and I'll have to stop that pretty heart of yours." </p><p>Her heart beat a bit faster at the threat in his words.  She swore he heard it, as his eyes held a touch of triumph.  </p><p>"I am open to suggestions.  Knives, poison, strangulation - whatever you'd like."</p><p>He watched her face, his attention captured as emotions spilled across it like water.  In the end, she set her jaw and raised an eyebrow.  He suspected she'd caught on to his game already.  <em> Intriguing little thing.  </em></p><p>"I hadn't considered it.  What would you prefer?" </p><p><em> Oh, this is entertaining. </em> He played at thoughtfulness.  "I don't think poison is for me.  Nor stabbing, come to think of it."  He knew his words could give her a clue to his nature, but her intellect was too much a challenge to resist.  </p><p>He threw a little flair into his performance.  "I've always felt decapitation was a fine choice.  One good swing and then - nothing.  But," he paused, fixing his gaze to hers, "we were talking about you.  What'll it be?" </p><p>
  <em> Exsanguination?  I could help you there.  </em>
</p><p>Amm recognized his game, but her mind had been worrying at Astarion's behavior for most of the day.  <em> Frankly, I'm tired of letting him run it.  </em></p><p>She crossed her arms, and returned fire.  "If I had to choose, I'll take the knife.  Just make it quick." </p><p>His eyes flashed for the barest second with unexpected interest. Clearly he had not expected her to reference his . . . skills again.  <em> He believed he won earlier today, but clearly a touch of boldness will serve me well.  </em></p><p>Astarion's dead lungs were suddenly breathless.  <em> She's playing my own game back at me.  This one continues to fascinate.  </em> Aloud, he continued their surface level conversation.  "Quite classic!  One good <em> thrust </em> to the heart and you're completely <em> gone</em>."</p><p>She watched as his eyes turned a bit wicked.  <em> Oh, Gods, in what did I embroil myself?  </em></p><p>"You need a good blade, of course."  His eyes flickered to Gale, just long enough to ensure she noticed.  "Don't want to waste your precious time hacking and prodding with a <em> dinner </em> knife . . . "</p><p>He heard her heart race again, and she let out the tiniest breath.  <em> Oh, darling, did you believe this battlefield would be level?  </em>He gave her his most banal smile.  "Well, I'm getting ahead of myself.  Our discussion is just a . . . worst case scenario, if you follow me."</p><p>She felt blood flush her face at his underhanded rejection, red to the pointed tips of her ears.  She could not call him out on his teasing without giving up her own subtlety.  <em> Still, I can give him a piece of my mind.  </em>"So how should I kill you?" </p><p>Her tone was so irritated that he could not prevent himself from laughing aloud.  "Ha!"  He gave her a true smile this time.  "Oh, my dear, I'd <em> love </em> to see you try." </p><p>He turned and sat down in a meditative pose on his bedroll, concealing the idiot smile that their banter left on his face.  "Get some rest, an early start might help keep all this hypothetical."</p><p>She refused to respond further, and sunk to her own fur bedding in frustrated confusion. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Distress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>My ranger takes over this next bit.  This installment is a meeting of opposites, but the characters demanded some fluffiness.  </p><p>Who am I to fight their wishes?  They're having a long week. </p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and WotC.  Thank you to Spotify for the unofficial soundtrack addition - "Pompeii" by Bastille.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rainore woke early to the soft tread of leather on rock.   The edge of the world was just starting to lighten with its pink glow.  </p><p>She opened her eyes quickly, because a ranger did not wake slowly in the wilds.</p><p>“Oh!  Good morning.”  Astarion’s soft voice greeted her, moving silently toward the fire.  He looked a bit flushed in the flickering light.</p><p>“Good morning to you.”  She slid to a sitting position, pulling her long carrot-bright hair out of its sturdy pony-tail to try to bring it under some sort of control.  </p><p>“I apologize for disturbing you, just needed to take a moment to . . . attend to my needs in private.”  <em> Just don’t ask what those needs are.  </em>Astarion calmed the nervousness in his voice - he’d hunted further from the camp than normal and had barely made it back before she awoke.  Rainore was an impressive tracker, and he was concerned to raise her suspicions when he needed her help.  </p><p>His eyes couldn’t help but follow her slender fingers as they worked through some small tangles.  The low fire lit her lovely hair with gold and highlighted the light freckles that trickled down her neck.  She pulled it back up into its tie, but the length of it still spilled down past her nape. </p><p>His eyes caught there. </p><p>
  <em> So human, so trusting.  </em>
</p><p>“It is fine, I have had strange dreams ever since . . . “  Her eyes rolled upwards toward the tadpole.  <em> He seems edgy, I thought he had been acclimating better. </em>   She reached over to gather up her weapons.  </p><p>“Ah.  You are in good company there.”  <em> Indeed, too good for either of us. </em></p><p>She stood by the fire, adjusting her bow.  “I think I may check my snares before we leave - I can’t imagine anyone’s belly feels any less empty than mine, and it would  be lovely to have a little something before we head out.”</p><p><em> Actually, one of us is doing pretty well, but I wouldn’t object to a little . . . extra something, if you follow me.  </em>The monster slithered through him at the thought.  </p><p>“I’m not going back to sleep, if you were interested in company?  Perhaps we could scout the bluff this morning as well.”  </p><p>Rain gave him a surprised look.  "You want to go out in the woods?" </p><p>Amusement cut across his face.  "Is that a problem?" </p><p>She put  up her hands and choked on a laugh.  "Absolutely not.  I just recall it isn't precisely your favorite activity.  You are very welcome to join me, of course."  </p><p>She motioned with her head and set off across the camp.  He fell into step.  She wasn't wrong, but he would struggle to gain her trust if he had to fight off their resident wizard to have the smallest conversation.</p><p>
  <em> One makes sacrifices.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She might do so, as well.  </em>
</p><p>A carefree grin masked new difficulty with holding his vampire at bay.  "Well, it appears that unless we stumble upon a magical portal back home, I will need to make the best of it."  His voice softened.  "If one must learn a new craft, one goes to the expert."</p><p>She glanced at him, doubt and confusion lining her expression at the compliment.  "That is a very reasonable way to look at it.  I admit, I assumed you would not be so different from the other city dwellers I've met."</p><p>They reached the first group of snares.  She was a bit disappointed to see them empty.  </p><p>"To be fair, I can't imagine I would have joined you before now."  Despite himself, he watched her check the small traps with interest.  </p><p>She laughed quietly.  "Perhaps not.  I should admit, I might have avoided you had we met under different circumstances."  She led him a ways further into the woods.  </p><p>
  <em> A better decision than you know, my dear.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You could take her now, and move on from the others.  </em>
</p><p>His gaze fixated on her neck, where her hair brushed it as she walked.  He imagined her heat and soft skin beneath his lips, his teeth sunk into her and her blood flowing between them. </p><p>". . . Astarion?" </p><p>She had stopped, yanking him back into the moment.  He realized she had been speaking to him.  "My apologies, my dear, my thoughts were elsewhere."</p><p>Rain just shook her head with a grin.  <em> He's going to trip on something and break his head open.  </em>"One of these is tripped, I asked if you wanted me to show you how to set them up." </p><p>"Oh!  I . . ."  He stumbled over the words, black visions in his head of her as his prey, left only to his mercy.  <em> Bloody Hells.  </em>"Y-yes, by all means." </p><p>He tried to keep his distance, but lacking awareness of his struggle, she captured a hand and pulled him down to a crouch next to her.  Her heartbeat invaded his mind, and her scent tantalized the monster that simmered below the surface. </p><p>"Your hands are freezing - don't be nervous, it's easy.  Watch."  She twisted the thin slip-knot expertly between her fingers, and hooked it to the vertical stick planted firmly in the dirt. </p><p>"Do you want to try . . . "  Rain's voice trailed off as she looked up to find his hungry gaze fixed on her.  Her breath exited her lungs in a rush. </p><p>
  <em> Dear, blessed Sylvanas.    </em>
</p><p>Blood rushed to her cheeks, and her gaze slipped to his lips for the barest second before snapping back to that intent eye contact.  "I-I . . . "  She bit her lip to keep from saying anything she'd regret. </p><p>In his current state, that quick glance was too much.  He reached a hand around the back of her head and pulled her into him, capturing her mouth with his. </p><p>She made a small sound in her throat, and it was all he could do not to groan.  The dim forest fell away, his senses focused solely on her heat, her pulse drawing him further in.  He wrapped her hair in his hand and pulled her head back, running gentle lips down her vulnerable neck.  </p><p>Rain gasped at the mix of pain and soft, sensual contact.  Cool lips traced the line of her throat, his tight fist in her hair forcing her still.  She trembled as his tongue gently tasted the fluttering pulse at her throat, and long, nimble fingers loosened the top fastening of her leathers. </p><p>Off-balance but captured, she moved her hands to his shoulders.  His teeth brushed against her skin, sharp against her, and she closed her eyes. </p><p>He felt slim fingers touch the curls at his nape, and a shudder passed through him.  He knew it was impossible, but in that moment he would have given nearly anything to feed from her while she touched him.</p><p>She shifted restlessly, wanting more contact but held fast.  Instead, she ran her fingers more fully into his hair and held him to her.   </p><p>He murmured against her skin.  "Rain, I want . . ."  His throat closed against him, unable to ask for what he needed.  Instead he captured her mouth again. </p><p>She dragged in a breath, catching eyes lit with crimson, reflecting the warm streaks of the sunrise.  "What . . . ?" </p><p>Her eyes were soft, open to him, and she touched his cool cheek, her fingers burning against him.  <em> I can't, she will run from me.  She should run from me. </em>   "Let me . . . just . . . mark you."  He lay insistent kisses on her mouth between the words.  <em> Just the smallest taste, I will stop, I swear it.  </em></p><p>She nodded and tipped her head, inviting him.  She didn't truly understand, but she had fallen into whatever was happening between them and feared he might pull away again.   </p><p>She swore she heard the softest growl issue from his throat as he pulled the soft skin at her shoulder into his mouth.  He sucked too hard, and it hurt; she couldn't restrain a whimper.  </p><p>"I'm sorry . . . won't hurt you . . ."  He lied, his hands were shaking.  He knew he was out of time. </p><p>A crash and a squeal off to their right burst into the moment. </p><p>They broke apart at the sudden sound, his hold on her hair released and she nearly fell. </p><p>"We . . . "  She swallowed and tried again.  "I think we have a small morning meal."  She gave a breathless laugh, avoiding his eyes. </p><p>Astarion was a bit dazed.  The interruption had stopped him from doing something irreparable.  He stood, then held out his hand to help her up.  It was unsteady. </p><p>"We best keep moving and get back to camp, then."  He kept his eyes averted, afraid he might lose this sudden and precious control again.  </p><p>She nodded and moved to the snare, where indeed a rabbit waited for them.  A few steps further and a second snare, then a third had also succeeded. </p><p>She slipped the rabbits into her game bag, nervous once again.  It was a quiet pair that returned to the campsite. </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>As Shadowheart had suspected, a second door led into the ruins from atop the river bluff. </p><p>Unfortunately, there was also a group of looters having an argument amongst themselves.  From their discussion, it seemed there were more inside.</p><p>Astarion held up a hand for Rainore to be silent and stay hidden.  He crept closer to gauge the situation.  Four people idled in the courtyard, clearly set to cover the entrance.  However, they were fighting about heading over the crashed nautiloid.  </p><p>"I'm tellin’ ya, it's a ship!  I'm the smallest one here, and I got more balls than the lot o' ya!" </p><p><em> Bragging about our bravery, are we?  What a magnificent opportunity for some fun.   </em>A wicked smile lit his face. </p><p>“But what about the tomb?”</p><p>The first speaker was a blonde halfling, a fighter if Astarion had his measure, and his voice was far more impressive than his stature.  “We've waited long enough.  They’ve been workin’ on that lock for days and gotten nowhere!”</p><p>Astarion strolled over to where they bickered, quietly, making no effort to hide. </p><p>The halfling was in mid-epithet when he noticed the Elf watching their disagreement.  He threw out his hand.  "Stop where you are!”  He eyed his crewmate triumphantly.  “What did I tell ya - got ourselves some competition already!"  </p><p>His face determined, he turned back to Astarion, taking an aggressive step toward him.  "That's our ship, and you need to clear out!" </p><p>The other man, a half-elf in padded green armor, put his hand on his sword.  The other two, a wizard and a ranger he suspected, covered him from the walls.</p><p>
  <em> I have no intention of wasting what little time I have bloodying my dagger with this lot. </em>
</p><p>Astarion smiled at their leader, fangs exposed, eyes glimmering red with bloodlust.</p><p>The small man paled beneath his tan, mouth falling open slightly. </p><p>Astarion simply waited.</p><p>“Well, uh, in that case . . . “  He turned, his movements suddenly efficient.  “C’mon you lot, no point in gettin’ killed.  Second worm gets the cheese, an’ all . . . “</p><p>His companion lowered his hand, but his face was confused.  “Uh, second <em> mouse </em> gets the cheese, no?”</p><p>The halfling turned on him once again.  His ability to hold his temper had clearly only been temporary, and fear had not helped his mood.  “Nobody’s gettin’ any damned cheese!  Now move it!”</p><p>At his tone, the three scrambled to follow him, and they made haste away from the ruined courtyard.  His sensitive ears heard Rainore laughing at their fast retreat, but when she came into view, her gaze was both curious and appraising.  </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Shadowheart’s voice held approval.  “Sounds like we were in for a fight.  You’re more cunning than you I gave you credit for.”</p><p>Rain grimaced, following the priestess and Astarion.  <em> This again? </em></p><p>Heading toward the entrance, she noted that the scavengers had dispersed without taking any of their belongings.  She stalked past the two and their talk, narrowly missing the barbed vines that lay across the flagstones in her irritation.  </p><p>
  <em> Well here is some luck for us finally - two more bedrolls, a full pack, and a sack of food. </em>
</p><p>“Ah-ha!  Just the thing to improve our evening.”  Gale spoke up at her elbow good-naturedly.  She handed one of the bags his way, and he peered inside with interest.  “Ah, some vegetables, a loaf of bread . . . there’s even a small bag of herbs.”</p><p>“Really?  They brought that out here?”  Rain set aside her cross mood for the moment - Gale’s frivolity at their potential for a real meal was contagious.  “In that case, perhaps this hunter we know might find us something larger than a rabbit this afternoon, hmm?”  She winked at him.</p><p>He laughed.  “How convenient!  I might know a wizard with a venison recipe that would be just the thing.”</p><p>Astarion brushed past his laughing companions to check the lock on the door, slipping between them, in part to avoid the vines, and in part to break up their chummy interaction.  <em> Is this really the best time for ridiculous flirtations? </em></p><p>
  <em> As opposed to . . .  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Concentrating on getting supplies and figuring the parasites. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Ah well, no doubt the morning's intimacies were relevant to that end, then.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Actually piss off. </em>
</p><p>His mood was sour, and the door was locked.  He turned, debating on his next move.  “If we want to go in this way, I will have to pick the lock, but I am concerned that the other members of their party will notice that we’re attempting to break in.  They could open the door and attack us should I attempt it.”</p><p>Shadowheart spoke up first.  “We could go back to the tombs and try to find a way up.”</p><p>The ranger stared past him.  “Well, I have something we might try.”  She pointed at a large counterweight hanging from a scaffold near the far statue.  “Do you suppose dropping that might break through to a lower room?  I bet I could slice that rope from here.”</p><p>“It won’t be quiet, so we might still have a fight on our hands."  Astarion debated aloud.  "However . . . their approach to attack us would be decidedly in our favor.”</p><p>“We risk it, or we go back to the tombs, where we risk stumbling upon them on less beneficial footing."  Gale lifted his hand.  “I vote we see what happens here.”</p><p>Rain gave an affirmative, and nocked an arrow, sighting the rope.  She pulled back on the bowstring, taking a moment to feel the wind blowing across her fingers.  Adjusting just a bit, she breathed out and released the projectile.  It flew true and cut the rope, sending the stone to the ground.  With a ringing crash, the stone broke through to the room below, and a pile of dust flew from the hole.</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Astarion pressed his ear to the door, attempting to ascertain how many marks lay beyond it.  </p><p>The sentry in the hall had gone down silently, one of Rainore’s arrows through her throat - the woman had immediately pulled her weapon, so the ranger had taken her down without hesitation.  <em> Remind me not to get on her bad side - well, any more than I already am after this morning.  I can’t outrun that.   </em></p><p>They had cleared the way to the door through the mess area of the temple, as well, where the group's leader waited near the exit.  A trunk of items from the ruins rested near him, and the four of them had filled it with the looters' food and cooking supplies.  </p><p>All that remained was to investigate this last room. </p><p>He held up three fingers, stepping back on silent feet and crouching with his bow.  Gale and Rain lowered down next to him, waiting for Shadowheart to pull the door lever.</p><p>She counted down on her fingers and pushed it down. </p><p>The door sprung open. </p><p>Yells went up from inside, and Rain sighted their targets.  Another ranger slid quickly behind a wall, so she loosed an arrow at the man with the greatsword.  He twisted at the last moment, and she caught him in the shoulder.  A solid hit, but he still kept coming. </p><p>Astarion's arrow flew from the shadows, taking the ranger directly in the stomach.  She fell, bleeding. </p><p>Unfortunately, a wizard ducked out from behind a pillar, and a stream of arcane missiles hit Shadowheart in a blinding white stream.  She shrieked as she was thrown off her feet into the wall. </p><p>Gale answered the wizard's volley as soon as she'd ducked into range, taking her out in a single attack.  In the meantime, though, the fighter gained the door. </p><p>Astarion had looked to Shadowheart's welfare, and his distraction gave the fighter an opening.  He buried his sword into Astarion's side when his attention flashed to the priestess.  </p><p>Rain dived back from the door, sliding on loose rubble, her vision gone gray at seeing him fall.  An arrow whizzed past her face, close enough to feel its passing.  The ranger, a deadly looking Drow, had downed a healing potion, and she was back on her feet. </p><p>Shadowheart yelled out a healing spell at Astarion, but the blast had clearly dazed her, and blood ran down the side of her face.  She wavered on her feet, clearly vulnerable to the next arrow. </p><p>Losing Rain as a target, the fighter moved to impale Gale instead, whose retreat had been stymied by Shadowheart's fall. </p><p>Fingers flying, Rain yanked an arrow while her feet slid, sending it flying at the other ranger.  It missed, but it drove the woman back into cover.  Tossing her bow aside, Rain threw herself at the fighter, inadvertently smashing her head into him, but taking them both down the stairs as intended. </p><p>Gale's voice rang out again, and a second hail of white explosions burst directly into her vision.  She felt the man slump lifelessly on top of her. </p><p>Astarion saw Rainore go down, and a red haze of fury took over.  He was waiting when the ranger ducked out once more.  He let fly one last arrow with such force that it knocked her behind a bookcase, and she did not move again. </p><p>"Bloody Hells . . . "  He flew down the stairs, where Rainore lay unmoving beneath the fighter.  Blue light flowed around him, closing the wound that had soaked his undertunic with blood.  He gave it no attention, however, shoving the body of the human aside with a touch too much speed for a mortal. </p><p>Rain blinked up at him, dazed from where the man's shoulder had impacted her forehead.  She smiled at him, unfocused but breathing.  "Oh, good . . . you're looking much better." </p><p>He did not return the smile, his anger at the fighter having moved to Rainore for her foolish risk. </p><p>Rain took his arm when he leaned down to help her up.  She found her feet, but the room tilted wildly, and she bent over, fighting nausea.  She lost the battle, and it was particularly humiliating that Astarion had been the one holding her up when she did. </p><p>"Come on, then."  Astarion let her hair fall back, having caught it just in time, and steadied her with the arm around her waist.  Her head rested on his arm. </p><p>Shadowheart spoke from somewhere to her left.  "Need I remind you that you are a human and not an ogre?  It's generally a bad idea to use oneself as a battering ram."  She spoke a quiet healing spell, knitting the laceration on Rain's head.  "We both took nasty bumps just now - we'll be taking it easy tonight."</p><p>Gale's voice faded in and out, " . . . Better we have to . . . Our supper than . . . wizard on a spit."  </p><p>Rainore's weight suddenly slipped sideways, and only Astarion's reflexes kept her from hitting the floor as she passed out. </p><p>He slipped an arm under her knees, taking care to rest her head gently against his chest.  He could not help but hear her heartbeat, reassuringly steady.  </p><p>Shadowheart, having recovered her senses, doled out assignments like a seasoned battle veteran.  "Astarion, get her back to camp, make sure her head is a bit elevated.  I healed her wound, but head injuries can still be difficult.  Gale, I'll take it slow, but let's see if there is anything else here.  We'll be along shortly with the trunk." </p><p>Astarion agreed, although his sudden protectiveness would not have accepted any alternative.  Rainore murmured at him, opening her eyes for a moment, but made an objecting noise as the light hit her eyes and closed them again. </p><p>He carried her back to camp, not bothering to play at mortal speed once he left their eyesight.  He propped Rainore comfortably with both of their bedrolls, then sat comfortably on the grass and monitored her breathing and heart rate.  The day had been unsettling - first his loss of control and now the overabundance of worry clouding his thoughts. </p><p>
  <em> I'm losing perspective.  </em>
</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>The wizard and cleric returned while Rainore slept with a third - the githyanki Lae'zel from the nautiloid.  She'd been dangling in a goblin trap while two tieflings argued over her fate - one of their party had been killed by a group of Gith, and they were terrified. </p><p>Convinced that Lae'zel would kill them both were she freed, Shadowheart persuaded the pair of the gith's potential for violence and got them away from danger.  More importantly, the two directed them to a druid enclave nearby where a healer was available. </p><p>Lae'zel, however, lacked both belief in the effectiveness of any druid healing as well as any decency.  Shadowheart had grumbled about the gith's impoliteness in the face of help and started to leave, but Gale insisted they bring her with them. </p><p>Still, she had potentially brought a solution for the tadpoles.  She claimed that the Gith had a way to remove the tadpoles, and that she could locate a settlement if they found the survivor of the Gith attack.  Unfortunately, from what Lae'zel described, being "cleansed'' involved walking into a secret Gith encampment with only their companion's assurance that they would survive the visit. </p><p>Astarion asked her about the possibility of controlling the small beasts instead, but she hissed at him and offered a beheading as an alternative.  He let the matter drop. </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Rainore rested quietly, trying to keep as still as possible.  Astarion had stayed on silent watch, but he kept his own council.  It was fine with her, she was dealing with the emotional reaction that had come over her when he took that sword to his stomach.  She worried what it meant in light of their interaction earlier in the day. </p><p>Astarion turned their situation over in his mind.  He had far more skin in this game than his companions did. </p><p>Once all were asleep, he slipped away to feed.  The Hunger was particularly painful due to his blood loss, and he would need to find something bigger than the rodents from last night to recover. </p><p>
  <em> You have options back at the camp, better options.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Out of the question.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You can't hold out forever.  You nearly took the ranger today in your uncontrolled lust.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There is no other choice. </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Dreams 1:  In the Middle Place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>First tadpole dream.  </p><p>Intended meta will always be in bold.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and WotC.</p><p>No music, Dreams are silent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>the link is forged     has been forged many times now     so we dream together    and yet apart  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>the ground is hard     </span>
  <b>
    <em>(this feels very real)</em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>~ where are you ~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>i can’t hear the waterfall     </span>
  <b>
    <em>(what a strange dream)  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>fight to wake up     wake up     wake</span>
</p><p>
  <span>up</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Druids (1 of 3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19223.html</p><p>Thank you all for your patience - the druids have more to offer us than I thought.  I don't want to make ya'll wait for the whole deal, so here is the first bit.</p><p>This entire chapter comes to us from the perspective of my druid PC Nightfall.  She has a particular interest in the circle, and her knowledge gives us an edge in our detective work.  </p><p>Plus, she has a great right hook.  Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to WotC and Larian for providing such wonderful mystery-candy.  Thank you, as well, to figs999 for unlocking the druid class, courtesy of the Playable Druid Class found on Nexus.</p><p>It's probably some music sin to put in a cover of this, but sometimes the rules have to be broken.  Unofficial head canon soundtrack for this chapter is "In the Air Tonight" by the Protomen, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nightfall woke up feeling strange, and for a moment she had the terrible worry that ceremorphosis had begun.  Her vision was strangely unfocused, tunneled with faded color.  She lifted her hand to rub her eyes, but saw instead . . . a furry, gray paw.  </p><p>
  <em> Oh, right.  </em>
</p><p>If memory served, she had awakened in the middle of the night with the worst headache she could remember.  <em> Straight to all nine Hells with this.  </em>She had merged with her wolf, felt immediately better, and went back to sleep. </p><p>She stood, shaking out her fur and letting things settle comfortably back into place.  </p><p><em> Perhaps I could take a quick run while they all sleep.  </em>She took a quick visual sweep of her companions, noting the body heat and the sound of breathing from . . . three? </p><p>
  <em> He's away from the camp again . . . no wonder he always looks exhausted.   </em>
</p><p>She opted to keep an eye out for him, feeling oddly protective.  <em> He would not welcome that sentiment, but there it is, nonetheless.   </em></p><p>She trotted toward the woods, its shadows yet untouched by the sun.  The soft, loamy ground felt lovely under her paw pads, the scents of pine and leaves and the river made everything seem a little less overwhelming. </p><p>She picked up Astarion's scent a short ways into the trees, following it along a faded wildlife path.  She jumped lightly over a small gully where she picked up the scent of a deer. </p><p>
  <em> Perhaps I can make our missed meal up to Gale yet. </em>
</p><p>The two trails crossed each other in several places, but eventually Astarion's branched off to the right. </p><p>
  <em> The scents are recent, too.  I'm close.  </em>
</p><p>It was only a short ways further that Nightfall's ears picked up the sound of hooves crashing unevenly through the brush.  Her prey came into view, staggering a touch and listing to the side.  She could smell its blood; it was clearly wounded. </p><p>
  <em> Then it is for the best to give it a quick end.  </em>
</p><p>She bounded quickly over and took the animal down.  Were it for her alone, she might have eaten it as the wolf, but instead she finagled the creature onto her back and followed the path toward the camp. </p><p>When she came upon Astarion's scent again, he had clearly turned back as well.  His scent felt strange to her nose, a mix of confusing emotions mixing with the smell of deer blood that drifted into her nostrils.  <em> Poor thing.  He is clearly an anxious mess.  </em></p><p>She arrived back at camp to see him reading on his bedroll. </p><p>She dumped her prize awkwardly some ways from the camp, padding across to within a few feet of Astarion. </p><p>"I see you had a successful jaunt into the woods, glad to see you feeling well enough to be up.  How's your head?" </p><p>She huffed and gave him a wide canine smile before wandering back over to the river.  She waded in, washing away the grime from her kill, before coming ashore and shaking the water from her coat. </p><p>She returned to the campsite in her true form, her auburn hair damp but clean, braids smooth.  As always, the change gave her extra healing - the headache from before had melted into the barest of distractions. </p><p>She was most of the way through dressing out the deer before it occurred to her that the scent of blood had actually been stronger near his bedroll. </p><p>She stopped her work for a moment, forehead creased with thought. </p><p>She shook her head.  <em> No doubt my wolf picked up the scent in her own fur. </em> She returned to her task as the sun came up. </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Astarion kept his distance from her while the camp rose around him.  His mind raced, unsettled at how close he had come to discovery.  He had been right in the middle of feeding . . . if she had been any quieter, his charade would have come to an immediate and horrible end.  </p><p>He had used vampiric power to scuttle up a tree some ways from the deer, but that necessity left him in a terrible emotional state.  Cazador took great pride in such gifts, and he'd forced Astarion to use them as a cruel reinforcement of his control.  This morning had been a painful reminder of how fragile this current freedom really was. </p><p>They were on the road to the druid glade described by the tieflings before he finally took the opportunity to observe her.  The light reddish face paint she wore to see the circle made her eyes appear sky blue and deep.  Her hair flowed down her back; her movements were a touch more feral than usual. </p><p>He let a small smile lift the corner of his mouth at the memory of her return this morning.  The wolf's wild nature was undeniable - she had stopped without entering the sleeping area this morning - yet her instinct had been to seek him out to share her accomplishment. </p><p><em> I have no idea how this situation can come to a positive resolution.  </em>Every time he left the camp to feed, he gambled on discovery.  Nightfall continued to seek him out more often.  Every day the vampire's demands for humanoid blood grew harder to resist, and the monster had fixated on the druid.  </p><p>
  <em> You conjecture as if the desire for the half-elf wildling is not yours.  You fight your own weakness.  </em>
</p><p>His hands tightened into fists. </p><p>"I hear fighting."  Lae'zel's voice was quiet, and Nightfall narrowed her eyes.  "I would suggest we be cautious." </p><p>Men's voices were raised in fear and frustration.  They were too far to understand the words, but the intent was clear. </p><p>Nightfall nodded.  "I'll go ahead and cover our arrival . . . Gale and Astarion, take the top of that hill if you can, might be best to get some distance from whatever we're dealing with.  Lae'zel, keep some distance behind me until we know what's going on." </p><p>With that, Nightfall called on her bear, shifting while she ran and bounding toward the sounds as quickly as she could go. </p><p>When she came into range, she found three humans outside the protective walls of the druid enclave, their fear palpable and goblin scent hanging over them.  They argued with the tiefling above them on a ridge, at the control wheel to the gate.  "Open the gate!" </p><p>"You led them here?  There are children here you fools!" </p><p>The gate began to lift, but time ran out for the unfortunate three as goblin arrows rode the air above them.  The male tiefling at the wheel went down and the gate slammed to the ground with him. </p><p>"Shit!"  The human who had been yelling for the gate spun about to see a large scouting party of goblins enter the roadway.  The ranger and the other fighter looked to him with uncertainty as they raised weapons.  "Form a line!" </p><p>Nightfall neared the group, taking a stance directly in front of the ranger, who took her chance to move to a platform for better range.  </p><p>The goblins wasted no time - already the head of the scouts had engaged the green-clad leader of the humans and bugbear attacked his second.  A huge worg fixated on the second man as well, and it charged just as Nightfall turned.  She gave it a claw to the face, knocking its muzzle aside. </p><p>A scream went up to her left only to be immediately cut off, as a streak of lightning arched from the hilltop to the goblin ranger who had attempted to slip behind her.  Nightfall's sensitive nose crinkled at the smell. </p><p>Lae'zel slid in next to her, driving her wickedly sharp longsword into the bugbear's side.  It swiped at her head but missed.  Nightfall looked for just a moment, but that distraction did not serve her well.  </p><p>Her size and vulnerability drew the attention of the party's booyahg shaman and a second goblin ranger, perched precariously on the hill where Astarion and Gale stood.  She tried to dodge a return swipe from the worg, but the familiar tinkle of a sleep spell dropped the second fighting human, and he slumped heavily onto her back legs.  </p><p>The impact on her balance allowed the worg to catch the end of her muzzle with a stinging claw as the ranger loosed its arrow.  It pierced her shoulder, sending a bolt of pain down her front leg.  She let out a roar of hurt and frustration, which drew Astarion's keen eye from the bugbear. </p><p>"Gale!  The shaman!"  He didn't watch to see if his command was followed, instead he rushed the goblin who shot Nightfall and tossed him off his perch with a hint of the vampire’s strength.  He hit the ground below the hill with a thud, only to die a moment later with the arrow of a furious Elf protruding from his chest. </p><p>The wending of a horn rang across the mass of fighting, followed by the yell of a human man from the wall.  "Make way for the Blade of Frontiers!"  The man jumped down from the side of the compound wall, and engaged the third ranger with a shining rapier. </p><p>The battle had turned.  The angry tiefling from the wall took out the worg with a well-timed flame spell.  The shaman lay in a smoking pile where Gale had hammered it with magic missiles.  The human ranger and Lae'zel finished off the bug bear, and the human leader shoved his blade finally into the goblin leader's stomach.  The Blade kicked the body of the final ranger off its outcropping. </p><p>Just like that, the battle was over.  The two fighters walked in, but the woman ranger stopped Lae'zel, not realizing that Nightfall was shifted.  "Our thanks."  Lae'zel, of course, took it as her due and gave a regal nod. </p><p>Nightfall lumbered to her feet, and limped over to have Lae'zel pull the arrow so she could shift, but the patience of her bear was fast waning when her efforts were not understood.  She whined audibly and tried to grab the offending projectile with her teeth. </p><p>Astarion and Gale made their way off the hill, in time to see her futile attempts to pull it out.  Walking slow and silent, Astarion approached her with caution.  She growled at him in frustration. </p><p>"Be calm.  I can remove it, but it looks like it's in pretty deep."  It felt very strange speaking to her second animal form today.  “It will likely bleed more without the arrow.”</p><p>She sat back on her haunches and huffed at him a second time, adding a small whine. </p><p>"Very well.  I might need to open the wound a bit so try to stay still."  Dark brown eyes blinked at him, and she dropped to her belly trustingly.  </p><p>The arrow had buried itself very close to the bone, but he could see a path to pull it.  Unfortunately, it was going to hurt.</p><p>"Gale."  His voice was as smooth and calm as he could manage.  No need to scare the very large, wounded bear. </p><p>"How can I help?"  The wizard was close, his voice low. </p><p>"What's my chance of a quick sleep spell for our young druid?  This is going to be . . . delicate." </p><p>"Ask no further."  Astarion heard the musical spell take effect and pulled out his dagger.  He put just the slightest touch of a numbing paralytic at the very top of his dagger, and carefully loosened the area around the arrow.  He worked as quickly as he could, and it came free. </p><p>Bright red blood spilled from the wound, and he realized in panic that he hadn’t prepared for the familiar stirring of his monster.  He stumbled back quickly, facing away from her, trying to ignore the enticing scent of blood swirling around him.  </p><p><em> I miscalculated . . . Her blood still smells incredible, sweet and full of emotion.  Gods.  </em>His hands shook and he squeezed his eyes closed.</p><p>The sleep spell ended, and Nightfall was relieved to see the arrow removed.  She returned to her human form fully healed now that the foreign object was removed.  She reached out to touch their shoulders in thanks, first Gale and then Astarion.  Astarion's fingers brushed hers, cold and gentle, but he did not turn. </p><p>Lae'zel checked the corpses, finding a strange amulet on one of the corpses - they stashed it for later review and slipped beneath the waiting gate into the druid sanctuary. </p><p>The tiefling and the human had resumed their argument. </p><p>"You led them straight to us!  And you let them take the druid. Unbelievable!" </p><p>"We lost him back at the ruins - whole place is crawling with gobbos."</p><p>"He trusted you."  The tiefling's skin was flushed redder than it already was, and the flames in his eyes burned brightly. </p><p>"Nobody forced him to go with us - he insisted.  And when things got tough, he couldn't keep up.  Simple as that."  The green-clad human left no doubt in his tone. </p><p>"My gods, you're a coward." </p><p>“Easy to say while you keep your tail safely here.  I’m not surprised - devils aren’t known for their bravery.”</p><p>Astarion raised his eyebrow at the escalation of their argument, but he had not been watching Nightfall.  When all of the sudden she threw a right hook at the human, he was unable to suppress a laugh.  <em>Best watch your words, human.  I've seen that woman in spider form.  </em></p><p>The man hit the ground, dazed.  His companions helped him up, and they left, spewing epithets as they went.</p><p>The tiefling grimaced.  “You beat me to it.  Good riddance, this grove has troubles enough.  I’m Zevlor, and we are in your debt.  Whatever your business, I’d see to it quickly - the druids are forcing everyone out.”  He sighed.  “This attack will only strengthen their resolve.”</p><p>Nightfall’s brow creased.  “I won’t be staying long - I just need to find a healer.”</p><p>He nodded.  “Goblin got you?  The druid Halsin’s a renowned healer, but he didn’t make it back from Aradin’s <em> expedition</em>.  If it’s not too serious, you could try his apprentice Nettie.  She’s with the other druids, in the inner grove.”</p><p>“We will go there immediately, then.”</p><p>Zevlor held up a hand.  “One moment, if you would.  They’ve started a ritual to cut the grove off from the world outside.  For our part, this is a crisis - we can’t stay, but we’ll be slaughtered if we leave.  We’re no fighters.”</p><p>A sudden dread rang in Nightfall’s heart - she knew of the ritual he described, but it was not something her order used for a simple goblin infestation.  “This ritual - is there no way to convince the druids to stop it?”</p><p>“I’ve tried.  Kagha - their new First Druid - won’t even see me.”</p><p>Nightfall’s brows lowered.  “Well, she will see me.”</p><p>Zevlor’s mouth twisted in frustration.  “Well, good for you.”  </p><p>She heard Astarion shift behind her, and the tiefling must have seen it as well, because he sweetened his tone and made a suggestion instead.  “Perhaps you could persuade her.  For more time to prepare, if nothing else.”</p><p>“I must speak with her either way - I take no responsibility to speak for your group, but it is likely my understanding will benefit us both.”  <em> I do not know what is going on, but there are many unlikely things converging here. </em></p><p>“We would owe you a great debt.  You’ll find the druids at the heart of the grove.  Please - make them see sense before more lives are lost.”</p><p>Gale spoke quietly from behind her.  “I think you should, yes.  No harm in trying the diplomatic route.”</p><p>She turned to see Shadowheart giving Gale an incredulous look.  “We need to check for a healer, then move on!  Whatever else is happening here isn’t our concern.”</p><p>Nightfall tipped her head some ways down the road.  They did not need the tiefling to hear anymore of their situation than necessary.  </p><p>Once out of earshot, her voice was low and intense.  “Of course, our needs here have to come first.”  Shadowheart and Lae’zel both nodded.  “That being said, something is very wrong here.  I know of this ritual, and it does not appear to be called for in this case.  Even more strange, this goblin group attacked these humans near a well-fortified druid enclave, and that doesn't even account for the tiefling who saw a group of Githyanki nearby.  These things are as odd as our paused ceremorphosis, and they all converge in this place.”</p><p>Shadowheart raised her hands in surrender.  “Lead on.”</p><p>“And keep an eye out for this Zorru.”  Lae’zel looked deadly - she was clearly on the hunt.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Druids (2 of 3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19223.html</p><p>Second installment of the Druid Grove, direct cut from the prior chapter.  No change of perspective, we're still with the druid for continuity. </p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to WotC and Larian.</p><p>Unofficial soundtrack is "Mad World" by Gary Jules and Michael Andrews, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The balance of the druid circle was terribly disturbed, insidious in a way Nightfall couldn't quite describe.  Everywhere she saw dark threads of fear and reactivity - things stood on a razor's edge.  They went as directly as possible to the most sacred area of the Grove, but a string of discomforting sights followed along their path.  </p><p>Lae'zel found Zorru, and she risked their acceptance by the refugees by scaring him half to death.  Nightfall felt she had some blame besides, as she had thought that Lae'zel would handle it alone.  In the end, they got a map from him, but the group was irritable and the crèche appeared a significant distance away. </p><p>While Lae'zel spoke with the tiefling, a female goblin, captured by scouts, yelled at them from a cage, threatening destruction at the hand of the Absolute, the very deity referenced by the attackers.  A weapons training area was filled with tiefling children being taught to defend themselves at too tender an age.  Other young tieflings seemed to be running some sort of underground through the upper areas, unattended by any parent. </p><p>As they made their way down the wide rock steps to the central altar, the tension ratcheted up to a fevered pitch.  At the base of the steps, a loud and tense standoff had erupted between a small group of tieflings and three druids blocking them from entering the grove proper.  </p><p>"Let my daughter go, right now!"  The tiefling woman’s voice was terrified, furious and beyond restraint.</p><p>“She is a thief!  She stole our idol - she faces Kahga’s justice!”  The tall woman in the middle was clearly in charge - she looked worn thin, determined to carry out her duty, no reservations.</p><p>“This is not justice!  She is only a child, and you got your bloody idol back!  Let her go, or I swear I’ll tear you apart!”</p><p>Her threat was finally too much for the druid on the left, and with a furious glare, he called his bear form.  He pressed the woman, growling threateningly.  Clearly afraid for her safety, her husband pulled her away from the guards, some ways up the steps.  "You nearly got eaten by a bear!  Let me help.  I'll see what I can do, perhaps grease some palms." </p><p>"Because that worked so well the last time!" </p><p>The treatment of these exiles was deteriorating before her eyes.  A small hard lump sat in the bottom of her stomach.  She found she suddenly dreaded what she might find below.  </p><p>With reserve and an eye on the green swirl of druid magic that set the very hair on her neck to attention, she moved to walk around the guards.</p><p>“You - get back.”  The bear gave Nightfall a warning growl, but the head of the druid guard held up a restraining hand.  “Give her a chance, Magran.”</p><p>Nightfall’s brow creased in confusion.  “As you can see, sister, I am a druid, the same as yourself.  Allow me to pass and pay my respects as is our way.  Please, I offer you no threat.”</p><p>The woman’s demeanor gave no quarter.  “Druid or not, you’re still an outsider to this place.  Entry is forbidden.  Kahga’s orders.”</p><p>The halfling next to her pulled on the skirt of the speaking guard.  “A moment, Jeorna.”  </p><p>She leaned his way, and he spoke quietly into her ear.  “What . . . ?  Oh, I understand.”   She relaxed slightly and made eye contact once again.  “You - apparently Kahga wants to see you.  Go ahead.”</p><p>A hint of anger building, Nightfall led her companions cautiously past the holy center of the grove, around which several druids performed what Nightfall knew to be the Rite of Thorns - they chanted and waved with the spell.  The process was long and exhausting - once it was complete the circle would be encased in the roots of the Treefather, no one able to enter or leave.  </p><p>
  <em> Why would they seek such an end instead of working to resolve their conflicts? </em>
</p><p>The rock wall that led to the inner sanctum slid smoothly back at their approach.  They passed through into a still, quiet cave which suddenly rang with the terrified voice of the tiefling girl.  “Please.  I’m sorry!”</p><p>A man’s voice, desperate and anxious pleaded for mercy.  “This is madness, Kahga.  She’s just a . . . “</p><p>“A <em> what, </em> Rath?  A thief?  A poison?  A <em> threat</em>?  I will imprison the devil, and I will cast out every stranger.”  They came down the circular stairs to see the girl pressed back against a stone table while two druids looked on, without attempting to intervene.  A snake coiled within a few feet of the child, and a bright-haired druid woman faced down one of the guards.   </p><p>Nightfall was completely stunned.  This was not their way.  The others hung back at the steps, but she approached the woman, who she assumed must be this Kahga, with her belief on her lips.  </p><p>“To reject the helpless is to reject Sylvanus himself."  Her voice was strong, echoing from walls steeped in nature and magic.  She swore the words were magnified. </p><p>Kahga’s eyes narrowed as she turned on this new challenger.  She answered back, stubborn and forceful.  “You know then that Sylvanus spoke further.  The parasite must be removed for the new seed to grow.”  </p><p>She turned again on the child, speaking with the animation of the zealot.  “Yet, behold!  The parasite lives!  She eats our food, drinks our water.  Then steals our most holy idol in thanks!”</p><p>Over Kahga's shoulder, she noticed a certain lithe elf slip into the darkened room closest to them.  <em> Astarion, you cunning thing, be careful - and thorough.  Sylvanas, guide his hand for the cleansing of your order.  </em></p><p>The First Druid pinned the guard with her gaze.  “Rath - lock her up.  She remains until the rite is complete.  And keep still, devil, Teela is restless.”</p><p>“Come, Kahga."  He again attempted to change the woman's path.  "We took back the idol.  Surely . . . “</p><p>“Do it.”  Her voice brooked no discussion.</p><p>Nightfall interjected again, her voice persuasive like water carving stone.  She would not allow this travesty to continue; it went against everything her order believed.  “A seed nobly sown renders the sweetest fruit.  Be noble - set her free.”</p><p>Kahga’s anger did not settle, but her expression showed awareness that many ears might listen to the half-elf druid that ended the goblin attack.  “The words of the Treefather, spoken plain.  It is as you say.”  She hissed to the snake, which turned to her immediately.  “<em>Ssifisv - </em>Teela, to me.”</p><p>She glared at the girl, a warning that her mercy had been unwilling.  “Out, thief.  My grace has its limits.”</p><p>The guardsman Rath took a deep, grateful breath as the girl slipped to the door.  “Thank you, Kahga.  Master Halsin would . . . “</p><p>“Halsin is not here.”  She cut him off, suddenly furious.  “Keep his name off your tongue, lest Teela pierce it.”</p><p><em> Clearly, she is struggling for control, but that still does not explain why she presses forward with this madness of using the Rite of Thorns without cause</em>.  </p><p>The new First Druid stalked over the side of the altar area, staring up at the huge wall mural.  Nightfall approached her in silence.  “You must think I’m a monster.”</p><p>“It is a monstrous <em> action </em> to threaten a child.”  She replied as diplomatically as she could, addressing the behavior but not the person behind it.</p><p>Kahga shook her head, unwilling to concede the point.  “No matter.  I took back the Idol of Sylvanus, and the rite has resumed.  We will seal the grove.  Free from harm.  Free of <em> intruders.” </em></p><p>It was difficult not to lash out at such stubbornness.  Still, the words of their patron were more powerful than any Nightfall could summon.  “You cast out the guiltless.  You shame your order.”  The truth would not shift. </p><p>“A disease of the flower must not reach the root.  Sever the branch if you must.  But cut out the rot before it infects the whole of the wood."  The response was immediate, couched in words of wisdom, but corrupted with the same sickness that washed over the grove.  "Teachings of the Treefather, do you agree?”</p><p>“Words you have twisted to justify your cruelty.”  Nightfall grew increasingly blunt.  There was more at play here than just a change in leadership - the woman went far to provide reasoning for her decision.</p><p>“Words I heed to the letter to keep my brood safe.”  Her defensiveness grew apace with the unraveling of her rationale.  Recognizing that her show of emotion undermined her authority, Kahga relaxed her expression with effort.  </p><p>She continued in a calmer voice.  “You showed great mettle at the gate - the mettle of a skilled sword for hire.  I want you to provide your services to Zevlor.  Offer to guide the outlanders out of the grove.  I’m sure they’ll reward you well.  They’re to be gone by final prayer.  If they are not . . . the viper must strike.”</p><p>From one breath to the next, her three companions were at her elbow in response to her obvious threat.  She was glad of Astarion's evasive efforts, glad of their support, but heartsick that her instincts agreed about the appropriateness their actions.  “I can certainly speak to Zevlor, but your actions disturb the balance.”</p><p>“You will do more than <em> speak</em>.  This tale ends but one way:  with the outlander rot cleansed and the grove forever shrouded.”</p><p>The First Druid had finally stopped presenting her case, just stated what she would do.  She was making it clear that the discussion would go no further.  <em> Very well, but this is not over.  </em>“I’m told there is a healer here.  Where is she?</p><p>“Nettie, yes.  She’s bumbling about here somewhere.”  The First Druid’s face was dismissive.  “But if your treatment is meant to outlast the rite, you’ll be removed with the rest.”  She turned away, an obvious dismissal. </p><p>They walked the circumference of the room, looking for the healer, when Rath approached them.  His voice was low but intent.  “You did well to speak for the girl.  That snake is <em> fickle. </em> A tragedy prevented.”</p><p>Nightfall nodded, jaw set.  “And if I hadn’t spoken?  What would have happened?”</p><p>His face crumpled, hopeless.  “Nothing befitting a child.  Nothing befitting any of our World’s creatures.  We’ve let a snake replace our leader.  She will see the tieflings driven out, or worse.”</p><p>Nightfall’s mouth tightened.  She could not imagine what her companions were thinking - did they understand the gravity of a full druid circle falling to corruption?  “Kahga seems happy to rule the roost.  Who’s your real leader?” </p><p>“Master Halsin, but Kahga becomes First Druid in his absence.  He did not return from his visit to the Temple of Selune west of here."  His fists clenched.  "More people will die if this ritual is finished.  I doubt those exiled by the rite will survive long outside.”</p><p>She shook her head. </p><p>“As no one’s looking for Halsin, I will do so.”  She did not ask him if help had been sent, nor did she mention that she had already intended to seek him out if Nettie could not help.</p><p>“Would you?  I would give anything to see Halsin return home.”  The man looked desperately grateful.</p><p>“No need to fret, brother.  I’ll find him.”</p><p>He smiled slightly.  “Halsin is an elf with the presence of a bear.  He left west, with the adventurers. You won’t mistake the First Druid for anyone else.”</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>“She’s never looked better!  I’m impressed.  What can I do for you?”  On entering the quarters clearly assigned to Halsin and Nettie, Nightfall had sent a quick spell to heal the injured bird Nettie had been examining.  <em>Build rapport</em> <em>early</em>. </p><p>“I need healing.  I hope you’re good enough to cure what ails me.”</p><p>Nettie peered into her face.  "Good enough to tell that there’s nothing obviously wrong with you.  A bit tired, maybe, but we’re all a bit tired.”</p><p><em> Truer words.  </em>“No good way of putting this.  I . . . uh . . . have a tadpole in my head.”</p><p>Astarion watched the woman's reaction with concern.  Her face was surprised, but it quickly morphed to something else.  “A tadpole?  A <em> mind flayer </em> tadpole?”</p><p>Nightfall sounded hopeful.<em>  As she would.  </em>“You know of them?  You can help me?”</p><p>Nettie's expression was resigned and bleak.  “I - I’ll do what I can.  Come, follow me.  I might be able to help.”</p><p>She led them into a large library, where a drow was laid out, dead on a stone bier. </p><p>"We ran into him in the woods, and he nearly cut me stem to stern.  Halsin killed him, and a tadpole crawled out of his head soon after.”  She smiled slightly.  "Gave Master Halsin quite a start."</p><p><em> I can't leave that alone.  </em>His voice wry, he commented, “Is everyone being captured by mind flayers lately?  Didn’t think it was a common experience.”</p><p>“Rather too common of late."  Nettie looked at him and the others uncertainly but continued.  "At least that’s what Master Halsin suspected.  It’s why he joined the adventurers on their expedition.  A pity you got me instead of him.  He spent days studying the drow’s tadpole - maybe he found an easier way.  Still . . . ”</p><p>She pulled out a thorn-branch.  "Hold out your arm." </p><p>Nightfall looked at it doubtfully, and Astarion's stomach wrenched.  "What is that? </p><p>“A cure.  Now your arm, please.  You don’t have time for games.”  She looked at Astarion.  “You don’t have to stay here for this.”</p><p>“Don’t mind me, I’ll just watch.”  His face smiled, but his eyes were hard. </p><p>Nettie shrugged and pulled the thorns across Nightfall's skin.  It burned, but she needed to take a step toward a cure if she could. </p><p>“There.  Be careful.  Your legs’ll probably give out first.”  The stone door lowered closed behind them. </p><p>"My legs!"  Astarion was suddenly at her elbow.  A growing dizziness had her tip back against him.  "What was that?  You said you had a cure!" </p><p>"There is no cure, at best I can make your passing as comfortable as possible." </p><p>Nightfall was furious, at Nettie for assisting suicide without consent, and at herself for not grilling her for more information. </p><p>She noticed Lae'zel and Gale suddenly flanking her on each side.  “It’s too late.  It’s already in your system.  I’m truly, truly sorry.  For what it’s worth, the poison is painless.  It’ll be like going to sleep.”</p><p>“Give me the antidote.  Now.”  She could see Nettie's death written in the eyes of her companions.  They would not let her die today. </p><p>“I can’t risk you turning.  You’d kill us all.  I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t let you leave.  You’re too dangerous.”</p><p>“Give me the godsdamn antidote!”</p><p>“I won’t.  I can’t!”  She was set in stone. </p><p>“But the tadpole is dormant, sister - I’m not changing.”  Nettie still did not budge. </p><p>“Same as the drow . . . But Master Halsin said he’d turn eventually.”  Nettie sat at the small stone desk, anxiety high. </p><p>“So I have time?  There’s a chance.  We leave to find Halsin, and you take his chance along with mine.”</p><p>That pulled her attention, and tears sprang into her eyes.  “All right!"  She returned to them.  "Master Halsin did say the drow’s tadpole was dormant.  Maybe yours is too.”  Nettie pulled out two vials. </p><p>Astarion relaxed a touch.  Now that she had revealed the antidote, Nightfall would have it, one way or another. </p><p>“But first - this is a vial of wyvern poison.  Swear to me you’ll swallow it if you feel <em> any </em> symptoms.”</p><p>Astarion squeezed her arm.  <em> Don't make a vow.  </em>Nightfall patted his hand. </p><p>She knew he was going to be mad, but she had no intention of using that poison herself.  “Fine, I swear.”</p><p>Nettie handed her the bottles and opened the stone door.  Nightfall drank down the antidote with alacrity.  She passed the poison to Astarion as soon as they left the room with a significant look.  </p><p><em>Did you think I had absolved you of your responsibility?</em> </p><p>His eyebrows rose, but he pocketed the vial without comment.</p><p>As they exited through the stone portal, Astarion murmured from behind her, voice low.  “Well, this has been an interesting lesson.  First, I learn that there’s a druid lost out there that can save us.  Then I learn that you’re a naive idiot."</p><p>She choked, and one of the guarding druids looked at her strangely. </p><p>His voice continued, clearly frustrated with her for putting her life at risk.  "The next time someone asks if you have a mind flayer tadpole in your head, maybe consider <em> lying</em>.”</p><p><em> This entire visit has been a disturbing failure.  Something is just not right. </em> “I’ll endeavor to be a little less honest.”</p><p>“Well, at least you know for next time.”  He again used that patronizing tone that made her want to punch him in his handsome face.  Well, among other things.  “Now let’s get out of here while we still can.”</p><p>She nodded at the others.  “I think Astarion has a point - let’s make ourselves scarce before anything else lights on fire here.”  They began the long climb out of the enclave, stopping to confirm the girl had returned to her parents.  Their thankfulness was effusive, and they promised any assistance they could offer.  </p><p>
  <em> I just want them to survive the road.  </em>
</p><p>Astarion's search had found something that left a warning in Nightfall's mind.  Kahga was corresponding secretly with an unknown contact in the swamp.  She vowed to unravel the knots tied by the new First Druid of this circle. </p><p>They had all hoped for so much more from the druids, particularly Nightfall.  It was a disheartened group that returned to the camp.</p><p> *     *     *     *     *</p><p>“It’s quite a sight."  Astarion looked up at Nightfall from the ground, resting back on his elbows, a book resting at his side, a dim candle casting soft shadows.  "The stars, I mean.  I could take or leave your chin.”  <em> Those pointed little half-elf ears, though - we'll keep those.  They are just adorably short.  </em></p><p>She shook her head but still laughed, freely, open.  She always laughed at his comments, and he found himself playing to that audience more often all the time.  </p><p>She followed his gaze.  “They are quite beautiful."  Her eyes returned to him.  "You seem more relaxed - am I disturbing you?”</p><p>“I am, and no, I’m just thinking.”  He turned his eyes back toward the sky and fell silent.  <em> Enjoying this moment to just exist without pain and fear.  I haven't any idea how to hold onto it or this . . . whatever it is.  </em></p><p>She settled down beside him.  When he said nothing more, she tried one last time to draw him out.  “Are you feeling quite alright?”</p><p>“Hmm?  Oh, um . . . I was . . . leagues away.”  He let out a long, low sigh, and brushed a distracted hand through his hair.“I can see the stars from Baldur’s Gate, of course, but not with such clarity.  It got me reflecting on what tomorrow might bring, when we arrive at this gith creche.  Will we find out how to bring the worm under control?  Will this little adventure of ours be over?”</p><p>"You know, I haven't considered anything past surviving the parasite.  I suppose it doesn’t have to be."  She stared up at the twinkling arc above them.  "Granted, I've spent the last 20 years alone.  I imagined I would return home, but it seems strange now to think of returning to solitary life."</p><p>"But that <em> is </em> your plan?"  He watched her face closely.  She did not look at him, but her expression turned conflicted. </p><p><em> What are you asking, Astarion?  </em> "Let me speak plainly.  It is not in my nature to seek companionship from other speaking creatures."  Changeable eyes turned in his direction.  In the deepening twilight, they were an opaque gray.  She gave him a half smile.  <em> "</em>I fear I would be a lamentable companion, but . . . we could still travel together, if you would like.”</p><p>“Good.  I don’t want you to run off <em> just </em> yet.”  A touch of what had burned in his eyes was still banked there<em>.  </em>They had not spoken of those moments in the forest, and it left her feeling unsettled.  </p><p>“Why?"  She took a teasing tone.  "Will you miss me?”</p><p>“Ha!"  He laughed aloud, eyes full of mirth.  "Why not?  You’ve been to the Hells and back.  Survived the crash.  Survived everything that’s followed."  He paused a moment.  "I’m not easily impressed by people, either, but you’re stronger than I gave you credit for.”  He looked as surprised at the admission as she was. </p><p>She nodded thoughtfully, eyes twinkling.  “That is true.  I am pretty impressive.”</p><p>She expected him to laugh, but instead his expression turned wary, serious and penetrating.  </p><p>“Aren’t you just . . . “  He let the words draw out.  <em> Wonderful?  Impossible to ignore?  Ridiculously idealistic?  Naive to a fault?  Incredibly brave and foolish all at once?  She truly is all those things, and it is quite clear that I cannot be trusted anywhere near her.  </em></p><p>“I’m teasing, you know.”  She tried to catch his eye when he trailed off.  “I’m just trying to survive - like you.”  </p><p><em> She makes my point for me; I am not surprised.  </em>No solutions presented themselves.</p><p>“Yes, we’re more similar than I thought . . . “  She caught the smallest hint of wistfulness, of realization, before it hid behind the jaded mask.  He let the silence settle; for a moment they were just two people who found the other's company a pleasant thing. </p><p>She really had so little experience with non-Druids, but she understood that their views on adult relations were quite different.  In the circle, she would have simply invited him to her bed and let him agree or otherwise.  From her understanding, though, most people were far less straightforward.  <em> Then again, maybe being overt could be a strength here.  </em></p><p>
  <em> In for a copper, in for a gold.   </em>
</p><p>“Well . . . " she took a steadying breath, focusing on the fire to find her confidence, "I  have many talents that I would be happy to . . . share.  If you want to . . . explore them . . . “  </p><p>She could almost feel his attention spike, and when she looked up, his eyes were fixed to her as though he thirsted, and she were water.  When he answered, his voice was warm and light, but fear and regret left a thread of darkness beneath it.  “A delicious thought, but . . . “</p><p>“But?"  </p><p>"The situation is just . . .  I can't.  Right now."  </p><p>She wanted to just let it go, to lick the wounds of rejection in isolation, but he just looked so . . . pained.</p><p>"Help me understand . . . What are you waiting on . . . ?”</p><p>“ . . . The right moment.”  The words were slow, thoughtful.  His head tipped slightly to the side, consideringly, and his eyes traced her features.  Her fingers rose without thinking to the mark he had left, although only a light bruise remained.  </p><p>His gaze flicked to her hand, then back to her eyes.  They seemed deeper than usual, like sunlit water in the shadows of a forest canopy.  The moment was too heavy; he broke the intensity with an uncomfortable laugh and looked away.  </p><p>“I’m sorry.  I - I . . . "  He fought the most ridiculous urge to come clean and let the pieces fall where they would.  Grabbing onto his self-preservation, he stood.  "I need to . . . clear my head.  I’ll see you later, I’m sure.”  </p><p>"Okay."</p><p>He paused a moment, then he gave her a smoldering look that burned her down to her toes.  He turned and began walking toward the edge of camp.  His voice floated back over his shoulder, scorching and sleek.  “Sleep tight.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Druids (3 of 3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19223.html</p><p>We are finally through the grind of the Druid Grove, and we can start having some fun again.  As noted before, we are seeing things from the perspective of my druid, but we'll roll the dice again on characters going forward.  (Feel free to put in requests on that front, I'm running out of characters, and we're only at Chapter 9.)</p><p>Thank you for your patience while I consolidated the multi-perspective awesomeness that is BG3.</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to WotC and Larian, still awesome.</p><p>This chapter's unofficial soundtrack theme is "Give Me One Reason" - Tracy Chapman, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nightfall rubbed her temple where the headache still lingered.  </p><p><em> You know, I could turn into a rat and disappear at any time.  We can't walk three steps without finding another fire to put out - I miss my woods. </em>   Despite her lack of suitability for the job, she had suddenly become the default leader of people who might kill each other within the week.  <em> Or worse, expect me to settle their dispute</em>s. </p><p>After the stress of the situation with Kahga and Nettie from the day before, they’d all agreed to return fresh today, speak with Zevlor, and hopefully trade for some necessities before they headed out to find the Gith.  From the moment they arrived, however, they were pressed for intervention from a string of sources.  </p><p>While she and Shadowheart traded with Arron, the druid’s contact with outside merchants, Gale took it upon himself to resolve another yelling match between a set of tiefling siblings nearby.  The wizard Rolan tried in vain to convince the others to leave before the goblins attacked.  Gale convinced them to remain to defend the refugees, despite the clear irritation at his involvement by Shadowheart and Astarion. </p><p>Nightfall just found it strange, but when she heard Rolan discussing his apprenticeship with the wizard Larroakan in Baldur’s Gate, she grew more suspicious.  Her companion’s comments were inconsistent.  At one point, he told the young wizard that his potential teacher was a bit of a rogue, and then claimed later in the conversation that he didn’t know who the man was.  Strange.  She resolved to keep an eye on him.</p><p>Astarion decided to charm “Auntie” Ethel, an old alchemist hawking her wares by the refugees’ cook.  The rest of the group ignored her running commentary, but when she made a strange comment to him about “strutting about in the sun,” he had immediately stopped.  Whatever she had meant, he was immediately hooked, complimenting her on her healing potions and telling her everything about their tadpoles.  </p><p>Nightfall still wanted to punch him - he had lambasted her about telling Nettie just the day before, and she was an actual healer.  Shadowheart tried to glare a hole in his forehead with her eyes for being so loquacious about her business.  Lae’zel was furious about yet another offer of assistance that she fully disbelieved.  Opinions aside, when the woman invited them all to her house to help, Nightfall’s skin crawled with . . . wrongness.</p><p>Realizing it was past time to head out, she decided to make one last stop at the tiefling blacksmith, lending him a sympathetic ear as he described their exodus from Elturel after the entire town had been dragged into the Hells.  It was clear he was less than supportive of the move, but recognized it was necessary.  He paid her gold for the low quality weapons they had taken off the scavengers and goblins; he got raw materials, and she took the gold to purchase some potions from Ethel.</p><p>She was nearly finished when the yelling from the goblin's holding area took a sudden, shrill uptick.  She turned her head to see Shadowheart and Gale duck through the door with concerned faces.  <em> Oh, dear.   </em></p><p>She headed up the steps to follow.  "Ya ain't gonna shoot me.  Yer hands are shakin'."</p><p>She ducked into the enclosed area, taking a moment for her eyes to adjust.  A tiefling woman stood with a crossbow pointed at the cage, debating on shooting the prisoner in cold blood.  </p><p>A tiefling man attempted to reason with her.  "Put it down.  She can't fight back." </p><p>"That's the point.  Get out of the way."  Her voice was coldly furious, brooking no argument.</p><p>"She didn't kill your brother, Arka.  You're better than this."</p><p>Apparently, the goblin didn’t have enough self-preservation to shut her mouth.  "Shoot before you lose your nerve, tiefling.  If you even had it to begin with." </p><p>Astarion stepped in front of the goblin, his eyes bored.  <em> Wait, what?  </em></p><p>"Looks like the Absolute's sent me a protector.  Ya gonna kill 'im too?" </p><p>The tiefling glared at him like he was another goblin.  "You!  Move!"</p><p>He didn't twitch, just crossed his arms.  "Lower the crossbow, or I'll deliver you right to your brother."</p><p>"Damn you.  Damn it!"  Tears shimmered in the woman's eyes.  "Why do you care if a goblin lives or dies? " </p><p>"If she dies, she'll take everything she knows to the grave."  Nightfall quirked a brow - she could read dishonesty, and he had just lied through his teeth.  </p><p>The tiefling was fooled, though, and it took the fight out of her.  "If you believe anything the beast tells you, you're an idiot." </p><p>The male tiefling saw it as well, approaching her slowly.  "It's all right, Arka.  Let's go."  She followed him out, her face wet with tears. </p><p>Astarion was speaking with the goblin.</p><p>“Ain’t sure why you protected me.  Don’t care, neither.  Too late to make friends, worgmeat.  My tribe’s comin’.  They’re gonna burn this pretty place for the glory of the Absolute, and ‘ang ya by yer guts.”</p><p>
  <em> There it is. </em>
</p><p>“Who is this Absolute you’re so fond of?  Your God?”  He watched the goblin carefully, waiting for her to give real information.</p><p>“<em>Goddess.</em>  We’re burnin’ Her name across the face o’ the world, we are.  The Absolute is gold from the sky, She is.  The blessin’ in the storm an’ the storm itself.  My tribe can tell you all you want to know.  Absolute blessed one of our own - Priestess Gut.  Got a whole lab set up, Cooks up potions that fix our lads no matter how much of a beatin’ they take.  Could probably stick your <em> head </em> back on it someone woz to chop it off.  Mighty <em> booyahg. </em>”</p><p>Shadowheart murmured in Nightfall’s ear, “A goblin healer.  We really are desperate, aren’t we?”</p><p>Astarion gave the goblin a doubtful look.  “Nice story.  Buy it for a copper in a tavern nearby?”</p><p>“It’s the truth.  I swear on your mother’s grave.  Get me out of here, and I’ll tell you where to find her.  Deal?”</p><p>He gave her his best cruel smile.  “You already told me what I need to know.  I’ll find the priestess myself.”</p><p>“Ha!  Even if you did find my tribe, they’d set the worgs on ya.”  Her voice was far less sure now, though.  “You <em> need </em> me.  Get me outta here, an’ I’ll tell ‘em what a good friend you are.”</p><p>“Not a chance.  You can rot in that cage.”  </p><p>He turned away to leave the area as she yelled at his back.  “Suit yerself.  Lookin’ forward to seein’ wot yer innards look like.”</p><p>Lae’zel stopped them on their way out of the room.  “Forget this goblin priestess.  She will not know about purification.”</p><p>Nightfall gave her a thoughtful look.  “Don’t you think it’s best to explore all our options?”</p><p>Her face was intent.  “A change is coming.  I do not know the day, I do not know if it will be sunup, sundown, or at afternoon’s high.  But it is coming.  And every unnecessary option we explore is another toll of the bell.”  She stalked out of the room, heading toward the gate.  Shadowheart and Gale wandered over toward the weapons training area.</p><p>Astarion touched her arm lightly as she moved to follow.  She turned back to him.  “I didn’t take these refugees for killers.  Maybe I’ve misjudged them.  They’re still going to die, but at least they’re willing to fight.”</p><p>"She was going to murder that goblin, not fight her."  She scowled at him and continued, shaking her head in frustration.  "They’re desperate.  And desperate people will do anything.”</p><p>“True.  Back any beast into a corner and you’ll quickly see its teeth.”  The emotion behind his comment set her aback a bit - clearly he was feeling the strain of their situation.</p><p>She moved again toward the others.  "I just feel like . . . "  She trailed off, unable to put her vague feelings into words.  She just couldn't get past the idea that they shouldn't even be here.  While Nightfall, a druid who shunned civilization more than most, would likely have taken the direct route, if she had a group of refugees she would never have come this way.  </p><p>The path was certainly longer to take the more traveled roads east from Elturel and then follow the trade road north toward Waterdeep.  But they would have had another safer road southwest to Baldur's Gate.  It seemed a strange choice to follow the Chionthar along less well-known roads without a strong guard.  </p><p>Astarion watched her attention drift, letting her move ahead of him.  He slid back into the darkness of the makeshift prison.  He did not disagree with the tiefling woman - he saw no reason why the druids had kept the goblin alive.  He slid silently over the cage,  and ensured that the goblin would not seek to corrupt anyone else.</p><p>He returned to the others only moments later.</p><p>Thoughts of the refugee children took Nightfall’s gaze into the training area.  They were back at their lessons again today, learning swordplay from an elder and the man who had made his flamboyant entrance at the gate.  He looked up as they approached with a smile, but when their gazes connected, they were dragged into a tadpole vision.  <em> An unknown face filled her mind, smooth blue skin and gnarled horns.  </em>It was a devil like they had seen on the nautiloid.</p><p>“I’ll be damned to the Hells.  You were on the ship.”  <em> A strange sensation coursed through her, as his mind unfolded. </em></p><p>“I saw a creature in your thoughts.  A devil?  A demon?”  Nightfall’s gaze was careful.</p><p>“A demon?  Sounds like that brain-bug’s really wormed its way in.”  He had one brown eye, and a strange gray one that reeked of magic.  It seemed to dare her to question him further.  “We’ve both got parasites tickling our grey matter.  And I’ve been having the strangest dreams.  Haven’t turned into a mind flayer just yet, but sooner or later, my luck’ll run out.  Been thinking I need a healer, and I reckon you’ve been thinking the same.”  His head turned to show deep claw marks on the side of his face.</p><p>She let it go for now.  “I hoped someone in the grove might know how to heal us.  Nightfall, by the way.”</p><p>He nodded.  “Wyll.  I’ve been waiting for the druid Halsin to return.  They say he’s pretty powerful.  He could probably help us.”  His face turned grim.  “Problem is - the goblins’ve nabbed him.  We’d better go find him, before we start growing talons and tentacles.”</p><p><em> How many people are going to send us to find Halsin exactly?  This is most certainly overkill - they understand he is one of my Brothers, right?  </em>She restrained a sigh.  “We can look for Halsin together.”</p><p>“Excellent idea.”  He gave her a broad smile.  “But I have a condition.”  She could just feel Shadowheart and Astarion disapproving from behind her.</p><p>“<em>Now </em>a condition?  You cannot be serious - you need Halsin rescued as much as we do.”  Her face was sour; from the corner of her eye she could see Astarion fighting to not laugh.  He shook his head.</p><p>“Look at these kids.  They’ve no chance on the road, not while goblins infest it.”  Wyll’s eyes were keen.  “I’ve got the grandest of plans:  you and me, we kill the goblin horde’s leaders.  That should scatter the buggers.  Frontier justice, I call that.  What say you?”</p><p>Astarion spoke up before she could respond to his insane plan.  “Goblin slaughter?  Let’s do it!”  Shadowheart made a choking noise and followed Lae’zel’s out of the grove, her steps angry.</p><p>Nightfall threw up her hands, heartily sick of every decision being unpopular.  “Fine.”  Gale caught her eye and gave her a supportive smile.  She flashed one in return.  She looked to Astarion, but he was suddenly extraordinarily interested in talking to a young tiefling about his swordplay.  <em> Nice, leave me to deal with Shadowheart later. </em></p><p>“We still need to speak with Zevlor about Kahga.  Wyll, would you join us?</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>The path back to their camp was empty - the sun was dropping low, and the entire druid enclave and its visitors were wary of being out after dark with the goblin attacks.  <em> I can’t argue - I’ll feel much better once we’re settled in. </em></p><p>Shadowheart was rattling on, having rejoined them at the druid gate.  “You know what I really miss about Baldur’s Gate?  The food.  The freshest fish I’ve ever had.”  </p><p>Nightfall understood - and if she was sick of game and old vegetables, it was certain that the others were far past that point.  </p><p>“I don’t care for fish.”  <em> Here we go.  </em>“Red meat, now that’s a different matter.  Rare as can be . . . dripping.”</p><p>Nightfall refused to comment.  His wealth irritated her, particularly his lack of consideration that some of his companions might not have access to such things.  <em> Arse. </em></p><p>Shadowheart apparently felt similarly, as her response was acidic.  “Well, unless we find a cure, you won’t have any teeth to chew it with soon enough.”  Nightfall had to bite her lip to hold in the laugh, but Gale did not bother.  Astarion glared at them both and fell silent.</p><p>When they came upon the dead boar, she was so lost in her own thoughts she nearly ran into it.  “Well, that’s odd.”</p><p>Astarion looked at her strangely, while the other two continued walking toward camp.  “Hmm?”</p><p>“It looks healthy, but it’s stone dead.”</p><p>Astarion’s mouth quirked, his eyes a mix of remaining irritation and amusement.  “The pig is dead, my friend.  Staring at it won’t bring it back.”</p><p>She shot him a quelling look.  <em> Spend time with a druid, expect to do druid things. </em></p><p>He gentled his face, hiding the sick feeling in his stomach.  <em> I should have moved it off the road, I was trying to move quickly.  Dammit.</em>  “Come on.  We’ll never fix these brainworms if we stop and gawk at every piece of carrion you find.”</p><p>She nodded her head, but clearly was not listening to him.  She bent down and checked the beast’s legs, body, and head.  The boar was freshly dead - only a few hours, the only marks on it were small punctures in its neck.  <em> What in the world? </em></p><p>Astarion felt his heart sink . . . of course she was interested.  “And?  Is it dead enough for you?”  A hint of impatience slipped into his tone.</p><p>She looked up at him, curiously.  “These marks are strange . . . do you recognise them?”</p><p>He sighed heavily.  “I - it’s been drained of blood with wounds in its neck.  It’s been killed by a vampire.”  Her eyes widened in concern, and he saw his opportunity.  “I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t want to worry you.  They’re ferocious creatures.”  <em> Also, worried ones - it is only a matter of time now, she’s too smart.  Hells. </em></p><p>He forced a smile onto his face, even though he knew that his jig was probably up.  “But don’t worry, I’ll keep watch tonight.  We won’t have to worry about nocturnal visitors.  Now please, let’s go.”</p><p>She nodded, giving the poor creature a pat on it’s side.  She would come back later and move it from the road, but for now she just wanted to go relax her mind.</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Nightfall tried to study the tiefling map she had lifted while Wyll made promises to Zevlor about their effort to take out the goblin leaders.  Her concentration was shot, however - the tiefling child's rapt face would not leave her mind.  Today had been full of new information, and she was feeling flummoxed.</p><p>Little Mattis, that little scamp, had been intent on fleecing her with one of his “magic rings.”  Then Astarion plucked the ring out of her hand, and made it disappear.  It had been all Nytefall could do to hide her smile at the child's shocked look when he accidently gave up his game to try to impress Astarion.  He realized he had been tricked, but he warmed up again when the elf gave him a bit of gold for his other rings.</p><p>
  <em> "You actually bought something!  Most people just call it junk and move on."  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Doing my part to help a young entrepreneur prosper." </em>
</p><p>He had stepped in front of a crossbow to protect a tiefling from herself today, she was almost positive of his intent.  After she spoke with Wyll, she realized that Astarion had taught an inexperienced tiefling some fighting moves and then promised the smaller children to help them fight the goblins.  </p><p>
  <em> Assassin.  Noble.  Lone elf.  Politician.   </em>
</p><p>The soft, warm expression he gave the children had been open, unguarded . . . heartbreaking and beautiful.  She could not get it out of her mind.  It was the first time she glimpsed the elf he had been before his abandonment of the elven ways.  She hadn’t thought of it much, but he had the look of a Moon Elf in his prime, one who could have had a family and hearth of his own.  He spoke as one who had been raised with The People, something she had been denied due to her mixed heritage. </p><p>As if her thoughts had conjured him, he was suddenly at her shoulder.  "Baldur's Gate is still a long way from here.  Goblin and gnoll markers on the map too.  Looks like they're mostly everywhere."</p><p>"Yes, they have no business even being here, nevermind knowingly." </p><p>She folded the map away, and grabbed the bottle of wine she had “borrowed” from the tiefling stores.  "Find us something to split this, won't you?  I don’t know about you, but I could really use a drink.”</p><p>He blinked, but she had already turned away.  </p><p>
  <em> Me too.  Dammit, she is good at these connections . . . I have days left at the most. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If you plan to leave anyway . . . </em>
</p><p>For once, he didn’t have a response at the ready.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Discovered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19468.html</p><p>We've rolled back to Liss for the bite scene, enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and WotC, as always.</p><p>The chapter's unofficial soundtrack choice is "Black Hole Sun," by Soundgarden, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Liss looked back over her shoulder to see a shadow man, silhouetted by the fire, hovering over her.  Fresh out of a dream, her reflexes took over, and she threw an elbow, connecting with his chin.  She rolled quickly and drove a knee in the man's solar plexus.  He grunted and doubled over, falling back from her bedroll.  </p><p>"Ugh! You . . . ". . . <em> hit me . . </em> . </p><p><em> Oh, blazing knickers. </em> " . . . Astarion?"  Her voice was low and confused.  Now that the moment had passed, her tiredness came back like the backdraft of a flame. </p><p>"Shit."  The expletive was slightly pained as he sat up.  <em> Damned good thing I'm not mortal.  </em></p><p>"Why in the name of Selune's shiny arse were you skulking over me like that?  You're lucky I didn't knife you!"  Her whisper hissed at him. </p><p>"I . . ."  He tried to come up with a lie, something she would accept.  <em> Dammit. </em></p><p>Her black eyes narrowed dangerously, as she caught him searching for a falsehood.  <em>Not today.  </em>Her hand slid slowly toward a dagger handle obscured by the fur of her bedding.  "Astarion . . . You need to tell me what in the Hells is going on."  </p><p>His eyes widened, and he immediately raised his hands<em>. </em> "No, no, it's not what it looks like.  I swear!" </p><p>
  <em> It's precisely what it looks like.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Weak, a shameful excuse for a predator.  </em>
</p><p>"What is that supposed to mean?  What exactly does it look like?"  She suddenly felt like the trusting creature that had learned the hard way on the street.  The old feelings were slipping through her again, kill or be killed, weakness let your heart be carved out with your own knife.  She should not have let herself feel for him . . . it had been unsafe, foolish.</p><p>He fought the urge to just run.  He slipped into a crouch, moving slow.  Less risk, less uncertainty . . . no disappointment when it all fell apart.  It was familiar.  Safer.  There was nothing to be gained in persuasion here.</p><p>But somehow, it didn't feel safe, it felt like the nautiloid was falling again.  </p><p>He searched for the threads of charm, to cover the broken, twisted monster that had shown itself at long last. </p><p>"I wasn't going to <em> hurt </em> you, Liss."  </p><p>The dark flames of her eyes cooled a touch at her name, but a volatile red eyebrow demanded the truth.  The words slipped from his mouth like it was someone else talking.  "I just needed . . . well," he closed his eyes so he didn't have to see her reaction, "blood." </p><p>When she didn't answer, he opened them to see the disgust, the fear.  Tired, black eyes just blinked at him, and her forehead creased.  <em>Am I really going to have to explain this?  </em>If everything weren't on fire he'd have been amused.  </p><p>His eyes willed her to understand, to react now, to end the horrible suspense and go back to the hate that he knew, that he expected. </p><p>"Ah, balls."  When his meaning finally trickled into her tired brain, her mind spun on how gullible she had been to him.  She pinched her nose between her fingers.  "Gods, you must think I'm a rutting idiot - we even found the boar you snacked on, and I didn't figure out."  <em> What? </em> <em>No, why would I think badly of</em> you .<em> . </em> . "Why didn't you just tell me you were a vampire?"  <em> Because I'm a monster . </em> . .  "Maybe, I dunno, <em> ask </em> for my help?” </p><p>Unable to keep up with her rapid fire comments, he responded to the last.  “At best, I was sure you'd say no.  More likely, you'd ram a stake through my ribs.” </p><p>“So, you decided for me?  That's bloody awful.  Gods, this is just a trough of flaming refuse.”  She lifted the hand from her face, dramatically gesturing while looking across the camp.  </p><p>He waited, wincing, for the inevitable horror.  In his weakness, though, he still couldn't help a futile effort to head it off.  "It's not what you think - I'm not some monster!"  He took a deep, useless breath to try to find his composure.  Instead, he found the wormy, wheedling creature that had saved him from Cazador's wrath so many times.  <em> It will have to do.   </em></p><p>He tried to look harmless, sincere.  "I feed on animals.  Boar, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get.  I'm just too slow right now.  Too weak." </p><p>She watched thoughts play across his face like he read a script.  <em>Pitiable eyes.  Watchful though, looking if I've been swayed.  </em>"If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer.  Fight better.  <em>Please</em>."  <em>Never have his eyes been so deep, his entreaties so eminently reasonable. </em></p><p>He was not making it easy for her to see his side.  In the space of a breath, when she saw his demeanor change like he swapped a pair of gloves, she just got more angry.  <em> Does he have any authentic feelings in there at all? </em> </p><p>His persuasions decided her - he was not going to tell her what was real<em>. </em> Clearly he would lie without compunction, especially when he was wrong.  <em>Dammit,</em> <em>Astarion</em>.  “That's why you've been going at night . . . And, that was your deer I brought back, wasn't it?  I nearly caught you . . . "  She trailed off, moving her hand behind her. </p><p>Liss silently cast the Detect Thoughts spell she had slid out of one of the multiple pockets under the back of her armor.  She felt bad for invading his privacy, but frankly, she was caught between just wanting to <em> know </em> and being so angry at his lies that she stabbed him on principle.</p><p>His mind opened up, revealing streams of cracked and quivering memories where chaos silently screamed. <em>  Together, they see dark eyes, commanding them to feed. They open their mouth and bite down.  Not into a tender neck, but into the twisting body of a rat - the only thing their master allows them to eat . . .  </em></p><p>Shared nausea, helplessness, and fury took her over for a moment.  She spoke from the shared memory.  “You ate animals because you were forced to, not because you wanted to.”</p><p>She regained her own mind and fought tears back at the moment of horror she had shared with him - even one’s own movements controlled by another.  <em> Gods, how long did that go on?  I'm going to find a way to kill his old master, and it's going to hurt. </em></p><p>His face fell into the neutral expression she was learning he used to hide, but his eyes were empty and broken.  He turned his face away.  “I - yes.”  He forced himself to look up.  “Yes, I ate whatever disgusting vermin my master picked.  So you can see why I’m slow to trust you.”  He leaned in just a bit, his eyes searching hers.  “But I do trust you.  And you can trust me.”</p><p>Liss’s anger was burnt out, but she was still at a loss for what to do.  Her mouth twisted, bitterly.  <em>“</em>You tried to <em>bite me </em>in my sleep, Astarion.  How can I possibly trust you when you do shit like this?”  </p><p>It was a plea for understanding, but she could tell he had no way to do so.  </p><p>Panic set his mind racing to find something that she would accept.  He fell into the only rule he knew - self-interest.  “Because we don't have a choice!  Not if we’re going to save ourselves from these worms.  I need you alive.  You need me strong.”</p><p>Her temper rose again at his tone.  “Well, how mercenary of you.”  Her whisper was cutting.  “Best I stay useful then!”</p><p>Once again, she watched the turn of his faces, this time choosing the charming one he knew she couldn't resist.  “<em>Please, </em>Liss.”   </p><p>She scowled at him, breaking into his fear for just a moment, the expression familiar and dear to him.  <em> But I am losing control, I can’t continue like we have been. </em> </p><p>“I only need a taste, I swear."  His voice was strange to her, musical and wheedling.  She realized he was reacting to something that didn't involve her at all.  "I'll be well, you'll be fine.  I won’t hurt you.”  </p><p>
  <em> Lies. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You don't have the control to promise anything. </em>
</p><p>She spoke into those wide, guileless eyes, trying to shock him out of whatever vortex spun in his head.  “You don’t know if that’s true or not, you silver-tongued horse's arse.  You haven’t done this before, either.”</p><p>His whisper grew quieter instead.  “Right, of course, I don't know why I thought - I’ve known the entire time that you would despise me if you knew the truth.”  The words were as dry as cobwebs, the realization of how her presence had wrapped around him, treated him like a person again, was acid in his veins.</p><p>“Godsdammit, Togs, you should <em> know </em> that's bull dung.”  <em> You idiot.  “</em>I don’t <em> despise </em> you, I’m mad as all Hells that you lied to me, which I <em> should </em> be, by the way.  You tried to . . . to . . . <em> force </em> me.”  She couldn’t say the other word, but she was certain it applied - it echoed in her brain.</p><p>He didn’t look up.  “You should despise me, even <em> I </em> despise me.  You’d be safer.”</p><p>Silence reigned, the crackle of the fire sounded loud. </p><p>“Does it hurt?”  Her voice was small, and he looked at her as if he hadn’t understood what she asked.  “Actually, you know what, don’t tell me.  Just . . . just do it.  Fine.  But not a drop more than you need.”</p><p>He blinked at the suddenness of her choice.  “Wait, I mean . . . really?”  His brain felt slow, like minutes had flown by and he had missed something important.  A small smile slipped onto his face, as he realized that what he wanted so desperately might have fallen into his hands. </p><p>He looked to share the feeling with her.  Her black eyes were very wide, fixed on his teeth.  <em> I'm an awful person, she's bloody terrified. </em> His eyes softened, he hoped it was reassuring.  “I . . . right, of course.  Not a drop more.” </p><p>Her hands fluttered, and she locked them into her lap, staring at them.  She felt vulnerable, and she hated that more than his lies.  <em>At least if he kills me, I won't be around to know how he fooled me again.</em></p><p>His vampire was all aggression and hunger, being so close to the prize, but everything else was exposed nerves.  <em> If she would at least look at me!  </em>“ . . . Liss?”</p><p>He reached out a tentative finger and tipped her face upwards.  She looked as soft as he’d seen her, her normal prickly defensiveness was almost entirely missing.  He leaned and kissed her, breathing in her scent.  She was all spice and heat, and her eyes slid closed.  He fought to stay in control so she would not be afraid. </p><p>
  <em> So she will not change her mind.  </em>
</p><p><em> More lies and </em> weakness.</p><p>For once, the inner voices could not catch him, pull him down.  He could hear her pulse, knew that she had chose to let him feed, later could take care of itself for once, everything else could burn, after 200 years he would know a moment of godsdamned peace.</p><p>The coolness of his lips suddenly took on a whole new meaning; he didn’t breathe into her mouth now that he wasn’t pretending to be mortal.  It was . . . strange.  <em> Right, it’s still just Astarion.  It will be fine . . . I hope.  </em></p><p>Gentle hands pulled her into him, and for a moment fear took over and she resisted.  He did not stop her, instead he sat back on his heels, his expression solemn.  “I think I have a better idea.  Lay down, on your side.”</p><p>She nodded and followed his direction, turning away from him and feeling suddenly alone and anxious.  She had no idea what he intended, but suddenly his solidness spooned around her, and he slid an arm beneath her head.  His other hand pulled her into him, secure.</p><p>“Better?”  His voice had calmed, returned to that warm, smooth tone that never failed to melt her temper away.</p><p>“Much.”  He felt her scrape her nails against his hand then hold him to her.  He fought not to rush, even though he knew it meant nothing different being a less obvious monster.</p><p>It was just as it had been in the woods, but so much more real.  He loosened the tie at the top of her armor, revealing her smooth neck, the warm light from the fire turning its pale coral to warm gold.  He ran gentle kisses up her nape, feeling her shiver and relax into him.  <em> Gods, I cannot believe she welcomes me like this.  </em>He murmured into her ear.  “It will hurt for a moment, but I’ll be as gentle as I can.”</p><p>A tremor slid through her, against him, and he realized she was laughing.  “You held a knife to my throat, you arsehole.”</p><p>He recognized the challenge now returned to her voice, and a predatory grin lit his face.  <em> Very well, Liss.  </em>He sank his teeth into her carotid with no further hesitation.</p><p>She went rigid against him, and the pain shot through her like a freezing arrow.  She bit back a whimper, but the tiniest sound still caught in her throat.</p><p>He let a small sound rumble in return, his senses filled with the first taste of her blood.  It was far from anything he’d ever experienced - so hot, a tingle of magic, blessed satiation like nothing else.  He could feel life flow into him, so sweet and perfect he trembled with it.  Her softness pressed against him, and he slid his hand beneath her leather jerkin, stroking his hand over her stomach, wishing he could share the heady feelings with her.  She shivered but held herself as still as she could.</p><p>She felt cold spreading from his bite, she could almost feel her blood flow into him.  She already felt lightheaded, and her eyes slid shut.  It was nice, relaxing . . . she needed do nothing but feel his closeness.</p><p>It took so little time for her blood to come less freely, to require more effort on his part.  A part of him knew that he needed to stop, <em> but just a little more . . . just a little . . . I will stop but in just a minute . . .  </em></p><p>Her voice drifted to him, relaxed and calm, but with a thread of worry.  “Astarion . . . you have to stop, you’ll take too much.”</p><p>Her voice finally did what his willpower could not, and he released his bite, licking thin trickles of blood away.  She shivered in reaction to the feel of his tongue against the bite wound.  “Of course, my dear.  I was just . . . swept up in the moment.”  </p><p>He breathed in her hair, working to get a handle on his overwhelming urge to return to feeding from her.  He swore he could still feel her, emotions and trust and comfort. </p><p>“Mmm . . . me too.”  She rolled to her back to look up at him, feeling more light and boneless than hurt.  “Do you feel better?”</p><p>Her eyes were half-closed, she looked as intrigued as he - they were lovely black coals that beckoned to him, her lips turned up in a small smile.  <em>I don't understand her</em><em>. </em> “It . . . definitely worked.  I feel good . . . strong.”  He let some of his bliss slip out in a real smile.  “Even oddly . . . happy.” </p><p>“Will you stay a little while?”  Her eyelids were drooping, and she snuggled beneath his chin.</p><p>“That is not a good idea.  Not when you're so . . . tempting.  I need to go find something more filling.”</p><p>She huffed in irritation, but it was clear she was on the edge of sleep.</p><p>“Liss . . . This is a gift you know.  I won't forget it”</p><p>“Of course not, you idiot, so you should come back after you . . . eat.”  She gave a sleepy smile, and her eyes closed.  “I’m amazing, remember?”</p><p>He watched her for a moment and then slipped away. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Interlude 2: Darkness and Doubts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/20340.html</p><p>Several chapters were in the pipe, once the druids left us alone . . . we're taking a moment inside Astarion's head, as things start shaking loose.  </p><p>Change sucks, fighting it just makes it suck more.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and Wizards of the Coast for giving us such rich characters.</p><p>Unofficial soundtrack music is "Inside," by Sting, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Astarion left the campsite, all speed and predatory grace.    </p><p>It was just one more self-serving facade, thrown up to hide how close he was to breaking down.  He was in full retreat, having nearly lost his composure in front of Liss as unfamiliar and unwelcome feelings assaulted him.  </p><p>He had not expected this floodgate to accompany feeding, her blood came with thoughts and emotions, bits of life pulled loose from their moorings and washed through him.  <em> Is this why Cazador denied me for so long?  </em></p><p>Alone and broken, he went down into a defensive crouch, dead heart racing with her blood.  He swore he could feel his throat closing, even though he knew it was impossible.  His hands shook as his fear gained the upper hand, dragged him to the very farthest reaches of panic and anxiety.  </p><p><em> I should be dead, staked and beheaded.  Why would she choose to feed me when I attempted to take her without permission?  It makes no sense, I tried to harm her, she should be furious, vengeful even, instead she asked me to come back to lay with her. </em> His hands shook at his desire to do so, despite the danger.</p><p>When she woke and turned to see him, he had expected her to attack him, ready to defend himself or flee.  She had reflexively struck out, but she had stopped the moment she recognized him.  </p><p>
  <em> I would have killed her. She could have died for my . . . experiment.    </em>
</p><p>When she had hit him with the spell, she must have been expecting intent, betrayal.  How angry must she have been to have used that scroll against him? </p><p>He had experienced Cazador’s cruelty, barely a moment of it, through her eyes and it had felt horribly fresh again.  Unnoticed tears filled his eyes, blood spilling down his cheeks, as 200 years of painfully-tempered control failed him entirely.  </p><p>
  <em> Weakness!  Since when do you care about the mortals - they left you to suffer for two centuries.  </em>
</p><p><em> She is different - her reaction tonight was nothing like I expected.  If I'd have known that she was willing, that she valued me, a broken thing, our first time would have been . . . so much more.  </em>He could not help visions of a seduction that took all the things he might want.</p><p>She caught him before he could taste her, when his curiosity about Cazador's control finally overcame him.  She had been too close to determining the truth, as he had failed to distract her from his handiwork with the boar.  Since she would send him away eventually anyway, he gave in to the temptation to taste her first. </p><p>
  <em> It made so much sense at the time.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Because you lack control, your decisions are spurious - Cazador kept the control over you that you lack on your own.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Go to the Hells.  I would rather go to ground and rot until I die.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Continue as you have been, then, and you won't have to concern yourself with having a future.  </em>
</p><p>When her eyes had met his, he had seen the consequences swimming there.  He would be alone, black and empty and vicious.  She would cast him out, and he would either become the new monster or revert to the old one.</p><p>He would not see any fondness in her eyes again, no companionship - he'd broken that, another failure.  Regret had been bitter, so bitter, one more nail in a coffin long sealed.  He had been swamped in unfamiliar loneliness.  </p><p>He covered his face with his hands.  He was losing his hold on whatever served as his particularly broken version of sanity, and he had miscalculated everything.  Somehow, she was more upset that he hadn't trusted her to keep his condition secret.  </p><p><em> "Why didn't you tell me you were a vampire?" </em>  </p><p>She didn't attack him - she had actually looked hurt, of all things.  Her face had been quietly betrayed, yet struggling to understand.  It was burned into his head. </p><p><em> “Why didn’t you </em> ask <em> . . . ?” </em></p><p>
  <em> Because I'm a vampire, damn it all!  Because I'm evil!   Doesn't she know that anything a vampire tells her is a misrepresentation wrapped in a lie? </em>
</p><p>He had asked her for her trust, tried to find a reason she would accept for not forcing him to leave.  He had stumbled over the words, somehow admitting that he had misled her to gain her confidence. </p><p><em> "How can I trust you - you tried to </em> bite me <em> while I was asleep!"  </em></p><p>
  <em> What could I possibly say?  She should not!  All of those things I told her were speculative, half-truths at best.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That had to be an act, you fool!  It's ridiculous to expect honesty from a vampire spawn.  She isn't kind, and she must be manipulating you in return.  She's been using you for protection, they all have.   </em>
</p><p>The foolish woman - he had manipulated her, lied to her, to save his own skin.  He had played her so carefully from the beginning, influenced her with his charm and the illusion of compliance.  Kept her alive to be useful to him - opened doors of potential seduction to ensnare her further.</p><p>
  <em> But she fed me from her own lovely neck.  It's like she didn't care that I could have taken advantage in that moment.  By all rights, I am a vampire spawn - I should have!   </em>
</p><p><em> But her taste was absolutely sublime</em>.  His eyes closed in memory. </p><p>She had waited so he could drink deeper, he had sensed it even through the exquisite satiation flowing into him.  She promised him a taste and gave him two goblets full.  </p><p>She was already weakening when she had stopped him. </p><p>
  <em> She nearly waited too long, almost like she wanted to give me more, to bring me ease.  I swear there was an apology in her voice for not letting me kill her.  </em>
</p><p>She was his first true feeding, and it had been incredible - like sex and connection and so much heat.  It was like drinking magic wrapped in crimson silk.  Even more amazing, she gave herself willingly, and he drank her down, soft and sweet and so godsdamned trusting.  A soft keen slipped from his throat at his need to return to her before he furiously squelched it.  He had lost control in a moment of pure, mindless ecstasy, and she had curled into him like she belonged there. </p><p>For a moment, he let himself fall into a light meditative state, trying to stop his mind from spinning uselessly.  The anxiety finally began to subside, and he lowered his hands.  He needed to remember what he knew of humanoid motivations.  </p><p>
  <em> I was nearly beaten to death, betrayed by my savior.  Even now, I was taken only to be used again!  This uncertainty is a weakness that must be excised.   </em>
</p><p>He turned her behavior over in his mind, looking for the telltale sign of manipulation he knew must be there, frustrated when he could not identify it.  In retrospect, she compromised with him often, had let him speak for her in the druid camp, and even stolen a bottle of red wine from the tieflings stock to share across the campfire.  </p><p>
  <em> She laughs at my comments, even when I'm trying to get a rise from her, even when I anger the rest of our companions.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How is that relevant?  You're becoming attached. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Impossible.  She reacts precisely as intended.  I am no green youth.  </em>
</p><p>Search though he tried, he could not find any personal benefit to the choices made by his irrational companion. </p><p>Then realization struck him like a blinding strike to the face.  </p><p>He had told her that she'd given him a gift, but this gift was irresistible and subversive.  This last incident was a master stroke.  From all logical points, it appeared that she had just decided to submit to him.  It was clearly a gambit. </p><p>
  <em> By the bloody Gods, she's had me tagged the entire time, silently pushing me to take control of our interactions but still make the choices she wants.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That small, scheming minx.  </em>
</p><p>He couldn't help a smile coming to his face.  She was really good, cunning and so very subtle.  The blood singing through his veins slid to his groin, an uncomfortable lesson.  </p><p>
  <em> I will take her up on it then.  Let's see how far she will go once the game becomes real.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You're going to lose.  You fancy her already.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No, I will make her beg for me, use the power she foolishly gave me.  I know this dance.  I walked this path for Cazador many times.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This time is different - you are free to choose.  So naive; you will tie yourself tighter yet, and she will serve you your own heart on a platter.  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Devils</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/20133.html</p><p>The chapter ran a bit long, but Raphael is just so much fun.  It ran a bit slow too, because we deserved to see him from the perspective of a warlock.  Introducing my 3-day old half-Drow, Utukku.</p><p>Thank you to Tad Williams, who always inspires the best characters.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to WotC and to Larian, who gave me so much wonderful dialogue - it's in here, but it's shuffled like a deck of cards.</p><p>Raphael deserves something special so the unofficial soundtrack for this chapter is "Sound of Silence," cover by Disturbed, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Utukku woke up slowly, out of a black, dreamless sleep.  It was far brighter than it should be, and she heard murmuring around the camp.  How late was it?  "Ugh . . . "  She pulled the fur over her face. </p><p>"Good morning."  A warm voice spoke at her elbow, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.  She peeked one eye out of her nest to see Astarion holding a steaming tin mug.  </p><p>Their early morning encounter flashed through her mind, strange and intimate.  Her breath hitched somewhere in her chest.  She brushed a stray hair back behind her ear, uncertain on morning after etiquette with a gentleman who'd had her - her blood, mind you - as a first course.</p><p><em> Ugh, my head.  </em>"Peace offering?" she asked as she took the mug, breathing in the steam, trying to make the world stop spinning. </p><p>He shot her an offended look, as if he could not possibly understand why she would be so cruel.  "I was being <em> helpful</em>.  I already apologized.  What more do you want?"  </p><p>She raised an auburn eyebrow to match his, and took a sip.  Barely missing a beat, he gave her his best demure-yet-coy expression.  "Unless you're, uh, looking for another nibble . . . "  </p><p>She choked on her tea, inadvertently letting out a shocked laugh.  He toyed with a white curl, which he somehow made suggestive - she swore his bite resonated when he watched her, a silvery strand of connection that drifted between them like the most delicate of webs.  </p><p>She had to resist touching the bruise.  <em> He shared his . . . first time . . . with me.  Oh, Gods above . . . that sounds terribly scandalous.  </em>She wondered if it meant something similar.  Her heartbeat positively raced at the thought - she was surprisingly intrigued.  "Maybe later?"  </p><p>"Maybe."  His voice slid over her skin like the cool stroke of his hand, and she shivered at the latent hunger in his eyes. </p><p>He took careful note of her reaction.  <em> Oh, this is </em> interesting <em> - the game is certainly on.  How lovely.  </em></p><p><em> "</em>But there won't be any more midnight surprises, I can promise you that."  He pulled his heated expression back to neutral, but it was more difficult than it should have been<em>. </em> </p><p>
  <em> As predicted.   </em>
</p><p>He fought the scowl that tried to take over his face.  <em> Dammit.  </em>"So . . . how do you feel?" </p><p>Her forehead creased. <em> Like a mouse being looked after by a lion.</em>  "I'm fine, just a little woozy."</p><p>"It'll pass.  Just be glad I'm not a 'true' vampire.  A bite from them and you might wake up as a vampire spawn, like my good self."  <em> How can he make everything sound salacious</em>?  "All of a vampire's hunger, but few of their powers."  </p><p>She let it lie.  "Any other drawbacks I should know about?" </p><p>"Oh, I've no idea.  For 200 years the sun would have turned me to cinders.  Until the crash, when I woke up bathed in its light.  Someone - or <em> something - </em>wants me alive.  They've changed the rules."  He flashed her a sanguine grin.  "Some of the rules, at least.  Running water still burns like acid, and I don't know if I need an invitation to enter a house."  He gave her another infuriating come-hither glance.  "As for my other quirks - well, we can figure those out in time."  </p><p>His improper implication slid behind her defenses, as usual, but she was stunned at his vague lack of concern about the changes to his vampirism.  "So as far as you <em> know </em> I won't have any lingering effects."  <em> So we're just speculating about his condition?  That's a bit unsettling to consider </em> after <em> the fact. </em></p><p>He waved his hand dismissively.</p><p>She closed her eyes, looking for patience.  <em> "</em>Will you at least tell me your history now?  The <em> actual </em> one."</p><p>He grimaced.  <em> What purpose is there in exhuming the past?  </em> He let out a long sigh.  <em> I suppose it is best she knows the truth.  </em>He lowered his head . . . describing the tortures inflicted on him by Cazador was bad enough, but the shame of his compliance was worse. </p><p>
  <em> Weak.   </em>
</p><p>"I was a slave, a vampire spawn, kept by the Szarr family."  His thoughts turned inward.  "Perhaps I still am.  I was never able to resist their commands."  He met her eyes, gaze fierce.  "But now, I've been conveniently <em> lost</em>.  They won't ever control me again." </p><p>She shivered at the unyielding vengefulness on his face.  She wondered for a moment if she might yet find herself a casualty of his war with his sire. </p><p>"How does it . . . happen?  How does someone become a vampire, exactly?" </p><p>His mouth twisted.  "It's simple.  Just find a vampire who will drink your blood and turn you into a vampire spawn:  their obedient puppet."  Rage slid through the words.  "In theory, the next step is to drink their blood.  Once you have done that, you're free and a true vampire." </p><p>She was still missing something, an explanation for his fury.  "So, they bite you, you bite them." </p><p>"Yes and no.  The problem is once you're a vampire spawn, they completely control you.  They have to <em> allow </em> you to bite them."  He sneered with old disillusionment, resurrected through her eyes. </p><p>He spread his hands, presenting the logical endpoint of his journey into undeath.  "And why would they do that?  People think the greatest threat to a vampire is a cleric with a stake.  It's not.  The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire.  They are scheming, paranoid, power-hungry beasts - they won't lose a servant to create a competitor.  Trust me, it doesn't happen."  He could not have fully concealed the hate in his heart if he tried.  </p><p>
  <em> Then again, why should I?  She put herself in my head, I didn't invite her there.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Didn't you?  </em>
</p><p>She gave him a penetrating look.  "I don't think I could have understood what your . . . patron was like without feeling it for myself."  She set her empty cup down, watching his hands as he refilled it, wondering how he could stand to do anything for anyone after his involuntary servitude.  </p><p>"You'd have to drink Cazador's blood to be free?" </p><p>"To be a free and a true vampire, capable of creating my own coven?  Yes.  Although I'd settle for just killing the bastard, I wouldn't be a 'true' vampire, but I'd be free of him." </p><p>"Well, if you need a second pair of hands to drag your sire's worthless skin out into the daylight to burn, I'll bring the toasting forks." </p><p>Astarion blinked, stunned to hear the soft-voiced noble so uncouth and vengeful.</p><p>
  <em> She would absolutely get killed, of course . . .   </em>
</p><p><em> And since you are weak, he would force </em> you <em> to kill her. </em></p><p>"And on that note," she continued, unaware of his inner turmoil, "I appreciate your trust in me - I don't know that I could have said the same were I you, especially since my temper . . . got the better of me last night."  Her voice was low, something shimmered beneath it he hadn't heard before.  "I apologize for forcing the issue with the spell." </p><p>He was thrown off by the apology.  <em> Why do </em> I <em> feel like the arsehole, </em> she's <em> the one who manipulated me? </em>  </p><p>At a loss, he gave her his most neutral smile.  "No harm done.  After all, you know what I am now, so I can fight with all my weapons - teeth included."  He smiled, fangs glinting. </p><p>"Yes - which begs the question, what now?  We should discuss how you might find proper nourishment in the future."  </p><p>He yanked himself back to the present.  "No innocents, you have my word.  Perhaps villains we need to kill anyway - and if I happen to drain the occasional bandit during a fight, what's the harm?"  He examined his nails with smooth flair.  "They're just as dead." </p><p>"That's . . . actually a good plan.  We agree then."  She looked relieved. </p><p>"Yes."  He gave her that wicked little grin that always made her laugh.  "I'm beginning to feel a little peckish already." </p><p>Gale spoke up from behind her, having been drawn to listen in, like usual.  <em> Of course, I'm sure they all have opinions about this. </em> "So we're traveling with a vampire, are we?"  His voice turned sardonic.  "Of course we are.  A word of warning, Astarion.  I taste absolutely awful.  Keep your distance."</p><p>Shadowheart's voice drifted from her tent.  "I'd just better not wake in the night to find fangs at my throat." </p><p>Utukku hated their petty bickering.  She was determined to leave no question in Astarion's mind about her sincerity.  He had dealt with too much broken trust; she wouldn't ask him to deal with doubts about her support.  "I trust him.  He won't hurt us."  She held his eyes, making sure he knew she was completely serious. </p><p><em> Message received.  </em>He felt suddenly a bit uncomfortable with his decision to seduce her to his control.  </p><p>He had more time-sensitive messages to deliver in the present, however.  His eyes connected with Gale's, ensuring the man saw his carefully neutral expression.  It was a threat of death if Gale came between him and Utukku.  "Quite the opposite.  I'm here in the spirit of openness and honesty, to work together as a team."  </p><p>He smiled without sincerity, and the wizard's response showed that he had picked up the challenge.  His eyebrows lowered a touch, a rare sign of underlying emotion in his usual perfectly cheerful facade.  "You say all the right words, but I'm not so sure you mean the right <em> things</em>."  He let out a visible sigh, eyes chilly.  "Still, I will respect the decision that was made."    </p><p>
  <em> I have no intention of losing to a broken wizard.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sorry, losing what?  The mark you plan to seduce in . . . what was it again?  Revenge for some perceived slight?  Sorry, still a bit fuzzy on the details of how this isn't about your desire for the woman.  </em>
</p><p>His conflicting thoughts made his response all the more sharp.  "There now.  We're all friends again."  He bowed mockingly.  "Shall we go?  There's a long day ahead of us."  </p><p>The focus of their rivalry nodded.  "Well if you need anything I'm here."  She looked unsettled at the obvious tension.  She moved to stand and find some morning privacy. </p><p>Vampire speed let him stand first, and he offered her his hand, as smooth and courtly as he could manage.  He had known many noble ladies in Baldur's Gate like her - this dance was as familiar to him as breathing was to the living.  </p><p>She jumped at the suddenness of the movement, but she still accepted his assistance.  </p><p>He gave her a warm smile, holding her hand a touch too long.  "Oh, you're such a sweetheart.  I'm just glad you're being sensible about these revelations."  His eyes slid toward their companions.  "I was worried people might show up with torches and pitchforks.  Although there's still time." </p><p>She laughed, shaking her head and giving him a wink.  "Hopefully they won't light the camp on fire, I'd hate to have to find more supplies." </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>It was already late morning by the time they left the camp.  They had only one small stop at the Druid Grove before they readied their scant supplies - both their search for the druid and the Gith crèche lay to the west.  </p><p><em> I have little hope either is going to progress without incident.  </em>To be honest, Utukku still felt lightheaded and peaked, and the new tension between her companions left her on edge. </p><p>As they ducked beneath the gate, Astarion froze.  "Did you hear that?" </p><p>She looked at him in alarm and followed his gaze to the lookout's rise.  There was movement at the top. </p><p>She thought fast.  "Gale!"  She didn't hesitate to see if he followed.  "INVENIUM VIUM." </p><p>She Stepped immediately to the top of the rise, and found a tiefling woman bracing for an attack by a stealthed bugbear.  She threw a stream of fire at it without thinking. </p><p>The wizard arrived as she cast, and three magic missiles slammed the still burning creature to the ground.  The other companions arrived to see only a smoking corpse. </p><p>"You arrived just in time."  The delicate, pink-haired tiefling looked shaken.  "I'm not much of a fighter - defending myself against an attack by a bugbear would have gone poorly." </p><p>Utukku smiled at her reassuringly, but the woman cut her off before she could speak.  "But that isn't why you're here, is it?  The stink of Avernus is all over you.  Let me guess:  your devil mistress sent you to get her soul coin back."  She sneered.  "Too bad.  I earned it fair and square." </p><p><em> She can't handle herself against a bugbear - what is she going to do against a devil?  </em>Clearly, someone needed to step in and protect the girl from herself. </p><p>Utukku pasted on her most intimidating expression, the one that she'd used back home when the nobles' sons got too . . . exuberant in their affections.  "You got me.  Hand over the coin, and I'll be on my way." </p><p>Astarion had to admit he was impressed at her deceit.  Never one to pass on a gambit, he did his best to look scary.  </p><p>His best was very good.  The tiefling's eyes were crafty, but she took stock of the group she faced and gave in.  "If you can take out a bugbear without breaking a sweat, what chance do I have?  Fine, take her precious coin and go."  </p><p>She flipped it at them, intending for it to fly down below.  He picked it out of the air with ease and handed it to Utukku with an admiring smile.  </p><p>He could feel Wyll's eyes on his back.  <em> You're welcome to try me, Blade, but I wouldn't suggest it.  Still - note taken about his interest in that coin. </em> He made plans to retrieve it at his earliest chance, just in case the man found his courage and attempted to take it. </p><p>Still in character, the lovely half-Drow led them back down the path, as regal as a queen. </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Her decision the night before had ended up costing them an entire day.  </p><p>Once out of the tiefling's sight, she'd found the first available storage crate and sat down heavily.  The two spells in rapid succession had been enough to sap what little energy she had. </p><p>Her companions decided to wait for her, but not without repercussions.  If things hadn't been frustrating enough, she now had four companions furious with the fifth, who currently sulked by his tent, looking reluctantly guilty. </p><p>An empty wine bottle rested on the ground, and she stared into the fire.  She considered just turning in early, but she doubted her mind would allow it.  </p><p>Suddenly, unrest spread through the camp, and she followed Shadowheart’s gaze to an unfamiliar figure approaching them.  It was a finely dressed man, seemingly sprouted from the sheer rock wall by the lake.  <em> That’s . . . new. </em>  </p><p>“My, my, what matter of place is this?  A patch of ground to call home.  Some rest for the wicked, after all.  What would suit the occasion?  The words to a lullaby perhaps?”  His voice was deep, smooth, and cunning. </p><p>The man launched into the words from a Cormyrian children’s song, threat dripping from him.  “Well met.  I am Raphael.  Very much at your service.”  He made an overly low bow. </p><p><em> I doubt that. </em>  For now, though, she could also play at politeness.  “Pleasure, I'm Utukku.”  <em> But you know that already, I'm sure.  </em></p><p>“Charmed, I’m sure, in more ways than one.”  His eyes dipped low, setting her teeth on edge.  “We should have a chat, you and I.  But not here.  No, this encampment is decidedly too middle-of-nowhere for my tastes.”  Her brows lowered, intending to tell him no.  “Come.”</p><p>She had no further chance to object, as in the next breath the entire group stood in a darkened great hall, with a warm fire and a banquet spread before them.</p><p>“There.”  He appeared in front of the flames.  “Middle of somewhere.”</p><p>She refused to show her fear, although the ease of the spell displayed powerful magic.  “Nice decor.”</p><p>He gestured grandly with his arms.  “The House of Hope.  Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed - lavishly.  Go on.  Partake.  Enjoy your supper.  After all . . . it might be your last.”</p><p>She straightened her spine and fixed him with a stony gaze.  “What makes you say that?”</p><p>He chuckled.  “Call it a ninth sense.”  A flash of fiery gold enveloped him, and the human guise faded away, leathery wings spread out behind a crimson face with towering horns.  “What’s better than a devil you don’t know?  A devil you do.”  </p><p>He wore a cunning smile.  Wyll’s voice cut in.  “Hollering Hells - you’re a cambion.”</p><p>Raphael shot him a glance.  “And so much more.  Am I a friend?  Potentially.  An adversary?  Conceivably.  But a saviour?  That’s for certain.”</p><p>Utukku lifted her chin, stubbornness and lack of patience giving her false courage.  “Why would you offer help?”  It wasn’t really a question.</p><p>Raphael answered anyway, giving a devilish simulacrum of a kind smile - it came off as patronizing and cruel.  “Because my compassion is boundless.  I stride among the needy, giving comfort where I can.  And you’re in dire need.  One skull, two tenants, and no solution in sight.  I could fix it all like that.”  </p><p>He snapped his fingers, and her patience snapped with it.  “You’re mad if you think I’ll make a deal with a devil.”  She turned away from him, finished with the discussion.  He continued speaking, but she picked up a dessert roll and took a bite without turning.  She swallowed, and without turning, responded, “I’ll rip out your mocking tongue.”</p><p>He was clearly intent on getting the last word.  “Ah, yes.  The tongue.  Yet another piece of pleasurable anatomy you’ll soon have to do without.  All those pretty little symptoms - sundering skin, dissolving guts - they haven’t manifested yet, have they?  One might say you’re a paragon of luck.”</p><p>She turned back to him, to ensure he saw the lack of fear on her face.  He just put on a smug grin.  “I’ll be there when it runs out.”</p><p>And just like that, they were back in the camp, the roll still in her hand.  The cambion had left them another gift - the campsite was well-lit with torches and tents lined up in a row.  <em> Show-off bastard. </em></p><p>Astarion threw up his hands, pacing.  “Now there’s a bloody devil trailing after us?  This gets better and better.”</p><p>Lae’zel just shook her head with a growl.  “This devil Raphael flaunts his paltry wings, as if he wants to <em> impress </em> us.”  She turned on her heel and strode back to her tent, taking her mug of ale with her.  <em> A fair choice.  </em></p><p>Gale put up his hands, his mien calming.  “Do you feel as flattered as I do?  A cambion came courting us.”</p><p>His remaining companions gave him a disbelieving look.  Utukku expressed what they all were thinking.  “You have a strange definition of courtship.”</p><p>He shook his head.  “Don’t let his bluster fool you.  All that talk of desperation?  It merely illustrates his own.”</p><p>Astarion cut him off.  “<em>His </em> desperation?  ‘Shop around,’” he said.  He seems sure we won’t find anything.  And he might be right.  We’ve had no luck so far.”</p><p>“Ah, but I think he wants something from us.  Badly.  And in that knowledge lies our opportunity.”</p><p>Utukku shook her head.  “Let me remind you that when dealing with a devil, you always draw the short straw.”</p><p>Astarion nodded at her observation.  “Exactly.  The devil has a plan.  All that 'take your time, I'll wait' nonsense - he's playing with us.  It reminds me of Cazador, taunting his slaves with hope when he knew the game was rigged.  Creatures like them don’t play games unless they know they’ll win.”</p><p>Gale raised a single finger to interject.  “There’s no such thing as an absolute certainty.  Let me play the devil deal’s advocate:  the man is too eager.  Do not dismiss his offer out of hand.  Raphael is a cambion, which makes him part human.  And what is human, is fallible.” </p><p>Utukku pinned him with her eyes.  “And how do you propose we beat a devil at his own game?”</p><p>“By figuring out his intentions.”</p><p>Astarion shook his head, but did not comment. </p><p>Gale sought her eyes.  “Fact one:  there’s something very strange and very powerful about our tadpoles.  Fact two:  a devil offers to take it away.  What if the <em> tadpole </em> is what he really wants instead of the customary price that is our souls?  If I’m right, there’s a <em> mighty </em> bargain to be made.”</p><p>Wyll waited until Gale finished, and then spoke up, his voice distant.  “‘The Devil with the Silver Tongue.’”  He let the name hang in the air for a moment.  “An old fairy-tale my father read to me.  The kind with a hero, a villain, and a moral.  A farmer made a deal with a devil, so the story goes:  in exchange for the farmer’s dearest fruit, the devil granted him a bottomless coin purse.  The farmer’s dearest fruit, naturally, was no apple or peach, but his beloved daughter.  We can learn a lot from fairy-tales don’t you think?”</p><p>Utukku passed a hand over her face, her headache hovering again.  “Spare us the parables, Wyll, I have no intention of bargaining with the likes of him.”</p><p>Gale pressed his lips together in disgust and stalked to his tent, pulling out a huge tome and proceeding to ignore everyone.</p><p>Wyll frowned.  “That’s because you still have hope.  But when he becomes your last hope, remember this.  He’ll require of you only what you’re least ready to part with.”</p><p>Astarion let out a sudden breath at Wyll's warning.  <em> I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any more pale.  He looks like he’s going to be sick. </em></p><p>Wyll wasn't finished.  “You might think you’d give up anything for a cure.  But the devil won’t take just anything.  He’ll take <em> everything.”  </em>He shook his head hopelessly and took a walk out of the camp, following the stream.</p><p>A heavy silence fell over the camp.  Finally, Utukku asked in a small voice, "What do you make of Raphael's deal?" </p><p>"I won't lie, it's tempting."  Astarion had the most to lose of them all.  "If I keep the tadpole, I risk turning into a grotesque monster.  If I lose the tadpole, Cazador has control of me, body and soul, and I return to the shadows.  It's grim either way, so why not sell what left of my soul to the devil?  Better he has it than Cazador." </p><p>"I understand the temptation, but . . . " </p><p>His eyes narrowed.  "Do you?  You're familiar with the phrase, 'Better the devil you know?'  Well, I know Cazador, and I'll take anything that saves me from that."</p><p>"We have other options.  Better options." </p><p>"Figuring out what is happening to us, confronting a God called 'the Absolute,' and then finding the time to kill my old master before he can control me once more?"  His tone was incredulous.  "Yes, that's an option, but I wouldn't bet eternity on it."  </p><p>His lack of hope was difficult to accept.  "You're trading one master for another - you'll be a slave either way." </p><p>"Do you think I'm unaware of the risk?  I may not be a warlock, but I understand how dangerous the wrong deal can be."  </p><p>"We'll be fine, no matter what we decide.  Raphael's only a cambion - we can handle him."  She looked calm and self-assured, infuriating in her hubris.  <em> The bloody, little fool.  </em></p><p>"Oh, can we?"  He turned on her with derision and fury.  She took a step back, unaccustomed to seeing his true emotions - and he was suddenly, gloriously angry. </p><p>"Because you've got it all figured out, I'm sure."  He spat the words.  "You know who tampered with the parasite.  And why.  And what they have planned for us."  His sarcasm deepened as he ranted further.  "And of <em> course </em> you know why we're interesting enough that a devil, pardon, a <em> cambion</em>," he stressed the word, "would proposition us."  </p><p>He took a breath, then leaned toward her, intent, his voice lowered.  "Because if you don't know that, then you may as well sign over your soul now.  We may escape whatever web we're in, but until we know what's going on, this Raphael has us exactly where he wants us." </p><p>Then he, too, left the fire for his tent. </p><p>
  <em> You seem very angry over her idealism for someone who intends to take advantage of it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She's a blithering idiot!  She goes out of her way to put herself in danger.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So, to confirm then, you are protecting her to ensure that you can be the one to betray her?  </em>
</p><p>He grabbed his dagger and flung it in frustration.  It buried itself in the tent pole, the force of his throw driving it completely through the wood. </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>It stung.  He may as well have jabbed a poker into her most secret heart, where she worried that her patron's payment for her power might be terribly steep.  He had called her out as a fraud and a fool, and it was ever so hard coming from him.  </p><p>Hot tears burned behind her eyes.  A full-on argument with Astarion was the last straw on top of the constant fear, her blood loss, and the lack of all her previous comforts. </p><p>She felt Shadowheart’s eyes boring into her, silently asking to speak with her in private.  For a moment she considered ignoring her.  <em> She'll just hold onto it until I give in.  Very well.  </em></p><p>She wandered down toward the river, waiting for the priestess to join her.</p><p>“Bloody hells.”  When Shadowheart spoke, her exhaustion was obvious.  “<em>Literally. </em> Just when I think I’ve got a grasp on our dilemma, a <em> devil </em> shows up.”</p><p>Utukku looked over, but her companion only stared at the water.  </p><p>Shadowheart continued, half to herself.  “No matter.  We’ve dealt with every other oddity thrown at us lately - we can handle this one too.  Now, as for this ‘Raphael’ . . . He knows our secret, he claims he can help . . . what do you make of him?”</p><p>Her voice was oddly careful, different than her normal brash opinionated tone.  “He’s a devil.  We shouldn’t trust him - simple as that.”</p><p>She finally looked over, her green eyes intent.  “No doubts at all?  He seemed powerful and very knowledgeable about our problem . . . not the worst prospect we’ve stumbled across.  As long as you can look past what he is . . . “</p><p>Utukku narrowed her eyes.  <em> She’s testing me.  </em>“I’m not going to just change my mind.  We can’t trust Raphael.”</p><p>Her face returned to its neutral expression, just like that.  “Good.  That’s what I wanted to hear.  I know people who work much like our new acquaintance does.  You don’t need a scourge or a rack to break people.  Fear and self-doubt are sufficient.”  She turned her gaze toward Astarion's tent, then back to Utukku, her message clear.  “When actual pain comes, the victim’s already done the heavy lifting for their torturer.”</p><p>
  <em> Right. </em>
</p><p>Shadowheart took a deep breath, her tone gentled for once.  “There were no right answers with that devil.  He was toying with his food - us.”</p><p>“I’m glad I made the right decision, then.”  <em> At least one of them isn't angry with me, I guess. </em></p><p>“Just . . . watch out for Raphael.”</p><p>
  <em> Already am, my dear.  I already am.  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Decay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19223.html</p><p>We return to Nightfall, and we enter the swamp.  But don't fret - there's a bit of fluff, just for us.</p><p>Thank you for your patience - writing in sequential order is . . . A bit novel. </p><p>Edits complete, enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to WotC and Larian, as well as to figs999 for unlocking the druid class, courtesy of the Playable Druid Class found on Nexus.</p><p>Official unofficial soundtrack for the chapter is "Collide" - Acoustic version by Howie Day, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They had a run-in with Ethel before they even made it into the swamp.  Nightfall had convinced them, with no small amount of effort, to check out the lead on Kahga before attempting to infiltrate the goblin camp.  She could not say why, but she felt it was somehow related to the rest of the mess. </p><p>She had already found Ethel disturbing at the tiefling camp, and that was <em> before </em>she killed two men with a single spell and disappeared, warning them away from her house for refusing to help her kill them. </p><p>As if that were not enough, they'd discovered a swamp-wide illusion spell that showed a keen understanding of magic and a deep well of power.  Despite an overall feeling of wrongness, Nightfall's eyes had been useless in seeing through the illusion.  She'd been forced to use her other senses - the lovely wetlands finally faded away to the smell of rot and the sound of insects. </p><p>The black and twisted tree rose tall and corrupt across the water.  <em> The mystery of the circle lies here.  If Kahga is falling into shadow, there is no telling what we may run into on the island.  </em></p><p>Up close, the tree was as foul a thing as Nightfall had ever come across.  It's magic felt greasy, spreading from its base into blackened tendrils of thorns.  Something more powerful than a fae was clearly at work.</p><p>Just the practical aspects of getting onto the island possessed its own unique set of problems.  Shadowheart's stash of Misty Step scrolls had been completely exhausted.  It had proven impossible to fully protect Astarion from the rough waters, so they'd burned innumerable healing potions before they fought a single monster.  With the priestess's help, they crept to the top of a large rise, hoping to keep their distance from the tree's shadowy guardians as long as they could.   </p><p>It had still been a horrible fight.  The corrupted tree spirits simply appeared behind them, harrying Wyll and Astarion despite Nightfall's constant heals and attacks.  It was fortunate that the mud mephits had died quickly to their magic - had they not been able to focus on the wood woads, they most certainly would have been killed.</p><p>In the end, Nightfall had found another note, damning and awful - Kahga had concrete plans in place to isolate the druids and turn them to shadow.  The source of her plan, however, had left little trace but a signature on the note.</p><p>
  <em> We must find the First Druid as quickly as possible.   </em>
</p><p>Astarion could not help but notice her silence as they made their way back to the swamp.  He still had no understanding of why she had insisted that he come - the flowing water on the island had made him a terrible liability, but she would not hear of leaving him behind.  From what he could tell, her choice had been entirely irrational.  <em>It seems she is more upset by this than we understood.  </em></p><p>Subdued and dispirited, Nightfall had every intention of returning to camp so they could determine a plan of attack for the goblins.</p><p>Then they found the red caps. </p><p>There were four, shuffling around the swamp, making impressively poor sheep noises to try to blend in to the now-missing illusion.  The creatures had a horrible twinge of wrongness too, however, so Nightfall's sense of duty simply could not ignore them.  Heartsick at the danger to her brothers and sisters, nothing less could have drawn her into battle - there was no way they could take more time in the swamp and still infiltrate the goblin's camp today.  </p><p>She took the direct approach.  “Excuse me, but are you pretending to be a sheep?”  </p><p>Eyes shot full-through with red scowled at her words from beneath bushy, white brows.  The hooked nose twitching, the small man squinted up at her.  "You sees me?"  He tsk'd at her and grinned a gruesome smile of pointed teeth.  "Nosy, scum-sucking, lice-ridden little ball bag.  Get outs!  Or I bites tongue.  Eats tongue.  <em> Delicious </em> tongue." </p><p>Her first impression had been correct.  <em>These </em>Unseelie<em> buggers certainly can't be left out here with the witch drawing pregnant visitors like flies.  </em>Her eyes made contact over the red cap's head with the others.  Wyll and Astarion quietly placed hands on their blades.  The fight was going to be an unpleasant followup to the island, but there was no reality in which she was leaving these bloodthirsty things alive. </p><p>She put up her hands, attempting to lower the creature's guard.  "All right!  No need to get nasty." </p><p>The sickening litte man eyed the nearly healed mark on her neck and hissed with grotesque pleasure.  "Aw, precious baby.  Loves to bleed you, yes.  Turn your corpse into sponge.  Lots of holes - yes."  </p><p>A wide, terrifying grimace creased his face, and the row of horror teeth glistened in his mouth.  "Leave.  NOW.  Or I fill you with holes." He fixed his eyes on her with a sudden, hopeful glee.  "And more.  HAHA-urk!" </p><p>The rasping laugh cutoff suddenly as twin daggers severed his vocal cord, and a rapier exited his gullet through the front.  The nasty thing dropped to the ground, but the font of blood that flew from his throat drew his brothers. </p><p>Tinkling notes of a sleep spell dropped Wyll like a stone before he took two steps.  The closest red cap to them climbed up the side of the small hillock and threw everything into an attack on the druid - he clearly believed she had slaughtered his leader. </p><p>Unfortunately for his valiant efforts, a huge spider stood where a woman had been a moment before.  The red cap scored a solid hit, but dripping fangs kissed it with venom in return.  It shrieked in pain and frustration, scrambling away from the terrifying new threat. </p><p>Shadowheart rushed over and roused Wyll, but the delay of their attack left them vulnerable, and she was forced to stand her ground with another attacker.  The poisoned red cap, maddened with sickness, ran directly at Astarion and tore a ragged gash in his stomach.  He swayed but grabbed the creature and dragged it squealing to his mouth.  He bit it savagely and took a few long dregs before a string of arcane magic exploded in his face. </p><p>Aware too late that the fourth monster could use such magic, the spider-that-was-mostly-druid flew over his head to land on the far side of the group.  As its missiles hit him and knocked him to the ground, their caster went flying, hit full-force by the overgrown 8-legged beastie.  A web flew out in the other direction, tangling the legs of Shadowheart's foe and gaining her a precious moment of respite. </p><p>Nightfall could see that the priestess was exhausted, but her last heal still closed Astarion's wound.  Somehow, Shadowheart had kept her quarry busy, despite struggling to land a single blow.  Those precious moments of delay, however, had been at a cost.  Out of magic, she tossed down one of their few remaining healing potions for herself. </p><p>The blood and magic recovered Astarion enough to slide out of the way as three streaks of fire finally raced toward the red cap sage from Wyll.  The creature screamed in fury as his clothing caught fire and jumped quickly down into the swamp water to put out the flames.  Seeing an opening, Astarion loosed an arrow into his back.  The creature fell into the shallow pool and did not rise again. </p><p>He felt the chilling crawl of holy magic as Shadowheart threw a spell at his drained victim, weakened but pulling itself upright.  It went back down again in an explosion of white and gold fire.  She'd stashed the spell scroll earlier, and this time she had known not to catch Astarion in the blast. </p><p>They were down to one adversary, but that fight had gone sideways.  Nightfall was badly hurt . . . Three of her jointed legs had been cut from beneath her, and only one eye could still see.  She felt the creature pierce the roof of her mouth, and the beast magic enveloped her.  Her vision returned just in time to see a flaming arrow streak past her and bury itself in her opponent's stomach. </p><p>She stood again in her own form, distracted by a pair of panicked cinnamon-ruby eyes that had watched the spider die.  Neither one of them watched Shadowheart finally connect her mace with the nimble red cap's skull and bring it down.  </p><p><em> I understand - it takes some getting used to for the </em> druid <em>in question too. </em><em> The moment of death when one's beast dies is not for the faint of heart. </em> </p><p>Having forgotten to warn her companions that such a thing might occur without any permanent damage, she went with the dramatic, dipping into a deep flourishing bow.  He let out an exhausted laugh and dropped to the ground on his back.  Shadowheart slumped next to him, streaked with mud, blood, and sweat.  "I don't know about all of you, but I think I'm done for today."  </p><p>Nightfall nodded, opening her mouth to agree. </p><p>"Aaaactually,"  Astarion interjected in his most charming voice, "I wondered if we might go just a bit farther on to find Ethel . . ." </p><p>Nightfall raised her eyebrow.  "There is no chance I'm letting that . . . whatever she is . . . anywhere near our heads after today."  </p><p>"Oh, I don't want to talk to her, you know.  Just a little . . . experiment."</p><p>Wyll rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated stretch.  "I . . . uh . . . still haven't shaken off that sleep spell entirely.  I think I might head back as well." </p><p>Nightfall gave him a flat look but did not comment.  Instead, she nodded to Astarion wearily.  "I will go with you; the two of us should be fine now."   </p><p>"Thank you, my dear." </p><p>Wyll slipped her a wink and followed Shadowheart back toward the camp.  <em> Wait, did he just slink off to give us privacy?  </em>She blushed straight to the roots of her hair, keeping her face turned forward to hide her reaction. </p><p>In the end, though, their choice to continue forward seemed more like fate than any mortal plan.  </p><p>She lowered her voice as they came closer to the rotted fencing around the building, feet quiet along the boards lining the path.  "So why are we going to her house again?" </p><p>He didn't answer, just held up a hand and kept moving.  They heard voices in the rotting shack - Ethel and another woman sniped at each other.  <em> Mayrina, no doubt . . . the poor thing has suffered another loss that Ethel has likely kept quiet.  </em></p><p>Astarion waved for her to stay at the base of the steps, crept up on the porch, and slipped silently through the door.  He returned almost immediately, and they moved away from the house as silently as they'd arrived. </p><p>He spoke in a low voice.  "So the brothers' story is confirmed - the second person is clearly carrying a child." </p><p>She nodded, having assumed as much from what she'd overheard.  "Well, it also appears your little excursion was successful, since vampires can't walk into homes uninvited like that . . .  normally." </p><p>"You are most certainly correct.  We can't."  He smiled slightly.  "And yet I crossed the threshold like moonlight through leaves.  This worm is a powerful little beast, isn't it?"  He was clearly a bit drunk with new power. </p><p>She frowned at him.  "It sounds like you're enjoying it." </p><p>"What's not to enjoy?"  His grin was self-satisfied and hungry with potential vengeance.</p><p>"Eventual death by ceremorphosis?"  Her eyebrows raised incredulously. </p><p>He laughed, and his teeth glittered very white.  "I can walk in sunlight, trespass upon any home, manipulate minds - I'm the most powerful vampire in the Realms!"  His eyes were wide with euphoria.  "Granted, the looming doom is an issue, but why not enjoy the benefits while we can?" </p><p>Her response faded, as they noticed a dark-haired man pacing just off Ethel's path in silvery, cloud-dappled sunlight.  </p><p>He could have been just another soul looking for redemption or healing, but somehow Nightfall knew he was not. Not here, not when everything connected, balanced on the tip of a spike, when it could crash with the slightest waver. </p><p>The man with the large, wooden crossbow strapped to his back was there because he had been <em>sent</em>. </p><p>"Ah, strangers."  He greeted them, and she fought to meet his eyes.  They followed the path towards him.  "Forgive the aroma.  Powdered iron-vine."  Nightfall's delicate nose wrinkled in disgust.  "An old hunter’s trick – most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me."  <em> And most everyone else will avoid you. </em> The sweet metallic smell had a horrible undertone of sickness and rot.</p><p>Astarion spoke from behind her.  "<em>You’re</em> a monster hunter?"  His pleasant tone rang false.  "I’m surprised, I thought all Gur were vagrant cut-throats."  As he spoke, he placed himself between the stranger and the druid, his instincts ringing a warning bell.  </p><p>"Takes one to know one, I suppose."  Her comment, meant to break the tension, passed him by.</p><p>Old hatred slid through him, memories of his world tearing from its foundations.  Through their frail connection, he felt Nightfall react to his tension, hands loose, the smallest tingle of shape magic at the ready.  She did not fully understand what was wrong, but she was prepared for a fight. </p><p><em> I know damned well that I'm being rude, but there's a Gur monster hunter in my backyard</em>. <em> That's no coincidence. </em> His worst fear walked in the witch's garden, and it was not this individual hunter.  Nightfall was caught in the crossfire of Cazador's hunt for him, and they hadn't even made it to Baldur's Gate yet. </p><p>He was gut-punched by several realities that became undeniable all at once.  </p><p>
  <em> She'll fight Cazador if he comes for me, and he will kill her one way or another.  I can't protect her; more likely, he'll force me to harm her.  </em>
</p><p><em>More to the point, I</em> <em>can't deny the need</em> <em>to protect her, when I needed to stay unattached.  Bloody Hells.  </em></p><p>His hateful inner voice was mocking.  <em>Weak </em><em>fool, you sought to deny your fate and now your decisions unravel.  </em></p><p>"Your friend has just heard the rumours of my people."  The hunter smiled, a practiced defense against an unfriendly world.  "That we steal chickens, curse your crops, seduce your daughters.  I wish I had half the power settled folk think my people possess.  Alas, I am a simple wanderer.  A simple wanderer and monster hunter.  But I’m no witchdoctor or cut-throat."</p><p>Her unsettled feeling grew apace with his words.  She knew a monster, rather intimately.  "If I was a cut-throat, I wouldn't admit it either."  She watched him for any weakness. </p><p>"True.  And I have no proof to offer but my word.  If you wish it, our paths need not cross again."  He looked resigned to her lack of trust. </p><p>"So what monster are you hunting?"  Her voice was light, her turmoil buried far inside. </p><p>Astarion piped in, as sardonic as he'd ever sounded.  "Something terrifying, no doubt.  Dragon?  Cyclops?"  His voice rose in drama, then went flat and mocking.  " . . . Kobold?" </p><p>The man laughed once.  He responded precisely as Nightfall had expected.  "Nothing so dramatic.  I’m hunting for a vampire spawn, and it is a little too bright for you to be my prey." </p><p>Nightfall met Astarion's eyes, watching misery drain every last hint of joy. </p><p>"His name is Astarion, but I fear he has gone to ground."  Even though the answer was what he had expected, Astarion felt his eyes round and his false breathing become erratic.  The hunter shrugged and continued.  "I hope the hag of these lands can help me flush him out, if I can afford her blood price." </p><p>Astarion's eyes narrowed to killing slits, so Nightfall continued to question the hunter to get what information they could.  "And when you find this ‘Astarion’?  You’ll kill him?" </p><p>He shook his head.  "Not this time.  My orders are to capture him."  </p><p><em>His fate is sealed. </em> Her heart sank at the confirmation of his intentions.</p><p>"Oh?"  Astarion loaded his tone with interest, fighting the urge to scream in denial.  <em>I will tear him into pieces and send him back to Baldur's Gate in a sack. </em> "And bring him where, exactly?"</p><p>"Baldur’s Gate.  My people wait for me there."  Somehow, the words still hit him like a maul to the head, and his dead heart set to racing.</p><p><em>How in the bloody hells did he end up in this place with us?  How many others are out there?</em>  She could see Astarion's hands shaking, which meant she had more urgent matters to focus on now.  She could see his control of his anxiety slipping.  She arched a brow at the hunter, her tone snappy and loud enough to draw Astarion's attention.  "Only a <em>spawn</em>?  Pity.  Not like it’s a <em>real</em> vampire."  She tilted her head, watching Astarion from the corner of her eye.</p><p>His eyes smoldered in response, a mix of fury at the hunter and the promise of retribution for her teasing.  Sordid thoughts of her suddenly warred with his panic.  His response was silky.  "Oh, I don’t know.  I’m sure a vampire spawn could still <em>rip</em> <em>out your throat .</em> . . if he felt like it."  </p><p>She nearly laughed aloud at his impressive tone change - he had gone straight from growl to smug, speculative confidence in the space of a single word.  What a failed reclusive druid she was turning out to be.  Put a sarcastic elf in her presence, and she just couldn't seem to get enough company.</p><p>The monster hunter nodded, serious.  "He is right, unfortunately.  They are only weak when compared to their masters."  Nightfall resisted the urge to tear the man's head from his shoulders for his neutral description of the coercive control true vampires held over their spawn as that of a master.  Her temper rose, and her wolf rolled through her heart, comforting her with thoughts of sharp teeth tearing into flesh.  "During the day, we have the advantage.  But at night, when they hunt?"  He leaned forward, intent on his story.  "You will not find a more deadly quarry." </p><p>Astarion, of course, preened at this description as loudly as one could without speaking.  She gave the hunter a gamine smile.  "Yes, I’m sure they can <em> creep </em> right up on you."  </p><p>Astarion shot her such a knowing and seductive smile that she felt it in her toes.  </p><p>He heard her breath hitch and heart speed under such direct regard, although he matched her neutral tone.  "We’ve all survived <em>so</em> far.  Let’s focus on that."  <em>Little m</em><em>inx, you will see consequences for your words.  </em>He knew she was trying to pull him out of the black hole, and despite himself, it seemed to be working.  That did not mean he would not give her the response she earned.</p><p>"It would still be wise to post guards at night.  The threat is real."  The hunter’s face showed concern for their safety, but she couldn’t think about that now.  It was time to finish the game - he was a threat to them all. </p><p>"Interesting.  Astarion," she did not turn her eyes from the hunter, knowing the wolf showed in them, “what do you think?”</p><p>Denial struck the man's face, and he clearly struggled to reconcile this situation with his knowledge.  “That’s Astarion?  No.  Impossible.”  The man paled under his tanned skin as he took in the sunlight bathing the vampire’s face.</p><p>For his part, Astarion basked in the entrance she gave him.  He held out his hands from his sides dramatically.  “These days, <em> I’m </em> making the impossible look easy.”  The hunter became the prey, and he reveled in it.</p><p>Astarion looked to Nightfall for a moment, his gaze caught by the unearthly vision he found there.  Pale sunlight, cutting through the blackened trees, lit the metal end of her spear like white fire and her hair garnet - her eyes leaked into her wolf behind their red paint.  <em>She appears as some warrior forest spirit, deadly and beguiling.  How did I believe I could deny her?</em></p><p>“May I?"  His sleek tone brushed her skin, and she shivered. </p><p>
  <em> And so we come to it.   </em>
</p><p>Despite the black pit of rage that had to be roiling in his gut, he asked her permission to kill his hunter, leaving the decision to her.</p><p><em> My choice, my payment - and he knows it.  Will I trade this man’s life for the life of a vampire assassin, sacrifice the blood of a stranger who has done no wrong?  </em> It seemed the only way to conceal Astarion’s location and keep him safe. </p><p>
  <em> Am I willing to go to war for his soul at the cost of my own?   </em>
</p><p>She searched her wretched emotions; they betrayed her when it came to the handsome elf.  <em> Sylvanas, forgive me . . . I am.  </em></p><p>Soul heavy, she nodded once. </p><p>He gave her a hungry smile in return, and she stretched her arms and slipped quietly into the skin of the dire wolf. </p><p>His voice was death.  "Excellent." </p><p>The hunter took several steps back, still caught in disbelief.  "The vampire?  It can’t be."  He looked to both the oversized wolf and the day-walker, aware that his fate was likely decided.  Still, he pulled out his crossbow, and took his shot.</p><p>The bolt hit only the ground, but flames erupted around Astarion.  For a first volley, it had been deadly effective - he jumped from the flames, grabbing a healing potion to keep moving.  </p><p>The Gur had barely a moment before the wolf was on him, knocking him down and taking a savage bite at his arm. </p><p>The distraction gave the vampire an opening, and he swept in to capitalize, forcing the hunter's head to the side and dragging several swallows of his blood from his throat.  The ironvine was bitter, but the life was sweet.  </p><p>Nightfall whined at him in warning, but he had no time to focus as the hunter threw his head back into his face.  Astarion released him with a grunt of pain, and he spun with another bolt at the ready. </p><p>The wolf went for him, but not before he pinned his target with a perfectly aimed bolt.  Astarion hit the ground hard, blacking out, a wooden bolt screaming pain through his chest. </p><p>In flashes, he saw Nightfall move, taking the man's shirt in her jaws.  He heard the man scream as she threw him off the high hill to the river rocks below.  The sound ended abruptly.</p><p>Her wolf was satisfied.  <em>No more will</em><em> he hunt this one-who-is-ours - we make our two-leg-pack safe. </em> </p><p>Nightfall melted back into her true form, throwing her most powerful heal at Astarion before she had fully materialized.</p><p>He lay unmoving, in a pool of blood.  She had never seen him this pale.</p><p>She had no idea what to do, so she fell back on her knowledge of her own survival lessons.  <em>It is like poison to him - I </em><em>need to get the wood out of his heart, so he can heal.  </em>She feared he might bleed out, but grasped the projectile and pulled it out with both hands.  He still did not move, but the gushing blood slowed incredibly fast.</p><p><em>Is a stake enough to kill him on its own?  </em>She had no way of knowing.  It was certain, however, that the loss of blood was particularly problematic - both for his continued survival and her own safety from his Hunger. </p><p>She would not hesitate now - she sliced her wrist across the wicked edge of her spear and let her blood run freely into his mouth.  </p><p>Astarion woke to the cessation of pain and silken life sliding down his throat from Nightfall's bleeding wrist - he could identify the taste of her from a thousand others.  He purred and reached up a hand to anchor the sweetly scented limb in place, taking a long pull of blood.  For the moment, his awareness rested only in the heat of her life and the overwhelming intoxication of her high emotion.</p><p>"Oh, thank Sylvanas."  She let him take a bit more before trying to pull her arm back.  He growled in denial and opened eyes that seemed brilliant crimson against the monochrome backdrop of the late afternoon swamp.  His grip was like iron, and she gained no space for her efforts.</p><p>He paused for a moment to slide his tongue roughly along the open cut in her skin, watching intently as she reflexively fought to yank away from the pain.  He did not let go though tears sprang into her eyes, and she hissed in reaction.  Having reminded her of her helplessness, he stopped his small torture - then he bit down again and took more blood.  </p><p>She was growing lightheaded, and she feared he had not regained his control.  "Astarion." </p><p>Thoughts trickled in slowly, but he recognized that she was breathless, her heart raced with fear and desire.  It was a testament to the benefits of having regular sustenance that this was enough to regain control, of a sort. </p><p>He pulled his fangs from her wrist but did not let go.  Instead, he licked more gently at the painful spot, focusing vampiric magic to help it close, but ensuring a rhythmic slow pulse of pain accompanied his assistance.  Struck by her willingness to accept the sensations without complaint, his need to feel her was undeniable.  It took barely a tug to pull her down to him. </p><p>He kissed her then, and she relaxed into him, letting him spend a dreamy, leisurely several minutes tasting her and letting her silky heat surround him, eyes closed, breathing her scent.  Soft curls brushed his face, and he drank in the small sounds she made against his mouth.  He felt her gentle touch against his face.</p><p>It took several long moments for him to recall their location, and he let his eyes drift open to see her watching him, her face close.  </p><p>He gave her a smile that for once lacked a sharp edge.  "I'm certainly not complaining, but I am a bit unclear on what happened between the crossbolt and waking up to an admittedly delicious blood donation."</p><p>"Gods, I thought you'd died."  He could see the truth in her face.</p><p>He chuckled gently and pulled himself to a sitting position.  "Well I did, darling, but not a second time - yet.  I would recommend against taking a bolt to the heart, however."  He winced. </p><p>They needed to get back to camp.  She stood and offered him a hand up - that he took it told her everything she needed to know about the damage the wound had done to his stamina.  "So there's a monster hunter after you."</p><p>“Not anymore, which is all that matters really.”</p><p>“What if there are others?  He might not have been alone.”  She tried to impress her concern on him in her tone, since he did not stop walking nor did he look worried. </p><p>“Oh there’ll be others.  I’m sure of that."  He looked at her then, and she saw the chaos spinning behind his eyes.  "If Cazador sent one peon after me, he’ll send another.”</p><p>“Why would monster hunters serve Cazador?  He’s a vampire!”</p><p>“They may have no idea who they’re working for."  He shook his head, frustrated.  "Cazador likely paid someone to pay someone to call in a favour, and here we are.  He doesn’t do simple plans.  Not if he has a complex one that pits a dozen enemies against each other."  His mouth twisted with certainty and disgust.</p><p>"So you’re sure Cazador’s behind this."</p><p>"It was him, I’m sure."  His brows lowered, his expression dangerous.  "Only he would know to send the Gur after me.  It was a group of Gur that attacked me that night in Baldur’s Gate.  I would’ve died had Cazador not appeared and saved me."</p><p>She scoffed.  "Saved you by turning you into a vampire slave?"</p><p>"Well, he didn’t mention the ‘slave’ clause at the time.”  </p><p>“I’m sure he didn't.  That he also appeared just when you needed him?  Seems awfully convenient.”</p><p>“Maybe."  His face said he'd considered that possibility many times.  "Maybe he was just drawn to the smell of blood.”</p><p>She shook her head, protective anger somehow stronger than even her worry for the members of her Order.  “So he sent a Gur after you now?  To remind you of that night?”</p><p>“Perhaps.  I have history with these barbarians - he probably thought it was funny."  He sighed and dropped his eyes away.  "But more likely, he’s trying to send me a message.  He’s reminding me of his power.  Even in the middle of nowhere, he can reach me.  And he wants me back."</p><p>"But why capture you?  Why not just kill you?"</p><p>He finally stopped walking, and he turned to her with the face of the lost.  "Maybe he wants to make an example of me.  To show what happens to runaways.  Or maybe he thinks death is too good for me.”  His face crumpled in a way she had never seen from him, the sheer hopeless dread was horrifying.  He closed his eyes and turned away in despair.</p><p>“Well, you’re safe with me.”</p><p>“Safe?"  His head swiveled back, expression aghast. "You think I’m <em>safe</em>?  Do you know the power a vampire lord possesses?   </p><p>"He can change shape; turn into mist; call wolves to do his bidding; shrug off blows like they’re nothing." Astarion punctuated each power with a frustrated gesture.  "He could walk into our camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands.  And you’d be lucky if death was the worst thing that happened to you."</p><p>"Can he do that?  Walk into our camp?"  She had to admit, she had doubts of their ability to stop him should he turn up without warning. </p><p>"Probably not.  He has to rest in his crypt during the day.  I've never known him to leave Baldur's Gate."  He grimaced.  "But he has no end of lackeys.  He'll send someone else in his place." </p><p>"Hopefully he does not know that we are actually here, although he may when the Gur does not return.  You know," she was aware that his reaction was going to be negative, but it needed to be said, "vampires aren’t invincible. We could take him."  </p><p>"You don’t understand.  You don’t know him.”  It was obvious he believed what he said, and she wondered how many attempts on his life Cazador had foiled to make him so certain. </p><p>“All right - then what do you suggest?”</p><p>He was not expecting her to consult him.  “First we have to  - uh . . . I don’t know.  If we kill his lackeys, he’ll just send more.”  His eyes looked desperate, a hole with no bottom.  “Just trust me when I say we need to be careful.  We just have to be vigilant.  Keep our wits about us and kill any monster hunters on sight."</p><p>Even in flight mode, he sent a flirty grin toward the Blade as they walked into camp.  "Well, we can probably make an exception for Wyll.  Probably."</p><p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Dismayed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Images - https://msaditu.livejournal.com/19728.html</p><p>We return to Amera, our wizard genius, to bear some bad news with our heroes and their NPC counterparts.  </p><p>She suspects everyone.  We ought to as well.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks as always to Larian and WotC.</p><p>This chapter's unofficial soundtrack choice is "Zombie" by Bad Wolves, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You're a True Soul, you can't die!  Please stay with us." </p><p>The voice was young and scared, enough so that for once no one objected to making a short detour off the westbound road. </p><p>They approached a man and woman standing guard over a motionless body.  The man, in simple clothes with an equally simple face, shook his head sadly.  "I don't think he's conscious.  Can you hear us, Ed?" </p><p>The man made no response, but the young woman saw the four of them approach and turned on them immediately.  "You!  Not a step closer."</p><p>A strange feeling came over Amera, an unfamiliar tingle of psionic magic accompanied by a pleased squirm of the parasite.  In response, a symbol on the young woman's arm sparked to life . . . And her will unlocked.  Curious, she gave a tentative<em> push</em>. </p><p>The girl's face crumpled into despairing grief.  "I'm so, so sorry.  It's our brother - True Soul Edowin.  He's injured, and I . . . I just wasn't thinking." </p><p>It was clear that his injuries were very grave, blood stains covered his robes and the hands of his siblings.  As she turned her attention to him, their tadpoles connected. </p><p>Pain colored the man's thoughts.  <em> New recruits . . . Andrick and Brynna . . . yours to shephard.  Protect them.  </em></p><p>His message passed along, Edowin let go of the fight, attempting to direct his siblings, but unable to maintain speech.  "Mind the True Soul - She will - She - She . . . " </p><p>Andrick saw his brother's weakness, but his grief was too much.  "Edowin.  Ed!  Please!" </p><p>Brynna bowed her head, tears slipping down her face.  "He's with the Absolute now."  She pulled her attention to the wizard.  “Edowin, our brother - he was chosen.  Like you.  Do you have orders for us?  We were reporting to . . . to Ed."</p><p>Astarion caught Amm's eye and gave a subtle nod at the pair.  <em> We were chosen also, yet we are no religious zealots.  We need information.  "</em>What happened to your brother?" </p><p>Andrick grimaced.  "We were looking for survivors from that crashed ship, but instead Edowin found an owlbear.  An angry one.  We managed to drag him away, but the beast's claws had already done their work."  His face turned to helpless anger.  "I told Edowin not to look in that cave - it was filthy with owlbear tracks."</p><p>Amm grimaced.  <em> We are being hunted.  Were we meant to be directed like these three?  </em>"These fugitives - tell me more." </p><p>"We don't know what they look like, but anyone who survived that crash is bound to be injured.  That's enough to get us started."  He shrugged.  "The Absolute wants them found.  At any cost." </p><p>Amm nodded thoughtfully, but her gaze was keen.  "Tell me more about the Absolute." </p><p>"What . . . ?  Are you . . . Are you testing us?"  Andrick's expression turned from confused to radiantly beatific, a true believer.  "The Absolute is our goddess.  She's going to rip down the old world order, start a new one.  Then we'll be the ones with the power - well you, firstly, True Soul.” </p><p>Shadowheart scoffed.  "Please.  Any supposed new God would have an uphill battle." </p><p>Astarion shot her a quelling look.  "A True Soul?" </p><p>Brynna recited her response as if she was repeating a lesson verbatim.  <em> She probably is.  </em> "True Souls have been chosen by the Absolute.  They speak with Her voice.  When the time comes, the True Souls - <em> you," </em> she looked carefully at Amm, "will rule." </p><p>He muttered under his breath near her ear, the breath tickling her skin.  She suppressed a shiver.  "Oh, I like these two.  All zeal and no brains."  Amm's lips twitched suspiciously, and her eyes glinted with humor. </p><p>"A crude summary."  Her voice snapped with authority.  <em> Impressive, my dear.  </em> "You have more to learn of our faith, novice."  She watched the girl’s reaction carefully. </p><p>"I'm sorry, True Soul.  I . . . Only repeated what I thought I knew.  It seems the Absolute still has a great deal to teach me."  She bowed her head, shamed by Amm's words.  </p><p><em> They are absolutely taken in by this Absolute.  Their belief is dangerously strong.  </em> She sighed inwardly.  <em> What to do with them?  </em> "Forget the owlbear.  You're still alive - so <em> go.” </em></p><p>Andrick's mouth dropped open a bit.  "And just . . . leave Ed?"  His brow creased, looking for a way to resolve his inner conflict.  “I suppose . . . I suppose he'd want us to go on - find a way to honour his sacrifice." </p><p>His sister nodded, belief again lighting her face.  "May the Absolute guide us." </p><p>They disappeared down the hill.  Amm bent her mind to the new information, thinking aloud.  "They spoke of the Absolute - same as that goblin, Sazza.  Curious."  She frowned.  "It sounds like trouble." </p><p>Her eye caught on the dead man's face.  "Oh, blessed Mystra."</p><p>His right eye stared sightlessly at the sky.  With a disgusting twist, a mind-flayer tadpole wiggled it's way free.  The vile worm took a moment to rest on his cheek. </p><p>Amm grimaced and snatched the thing up, fully intending to smash it into the dirt.  Yet once she touched it, her perspective was drawn another way. </p><p>
  <em> It's adorable and helpless, who would destroy such a perfect creature?  </em>
</p><p>"Amera?"  Shadowheart's voice was concerned, and it interrupted the wizard's trance. </p><p>
  <em> Ugh, it was charming me to save itself!  </em>
</p><p>She dumped the thing onto the ground, repulsed at how easily it had swayed her mind. </p><p>
  <em> I should just let it go, there's no reason to smash . . .  </em>
</p><p>"Dammit!"  The normally soft-spoken wizard fought off its influence and smashed it beneath her boot </p><p>A wave of nausea and regret swamped her senses.  She managed to straighten up, but her gaze was ragged. </p><p>Astarion saw the mental struggle that she'd waged, and he attempted to distract from the backlash.  <em> Nothing like some new information for that adorable brain of hers.  </em>He shrugged gracefully.  "Well, we are blessed 'True Souls.'  Hand-picked by the Absolute, just like their ex-brother.  Who, by a remarkable coincidence, also had a mind-flayer worm." </p><p>Wyll blew out a heavy breath.  "I'll be damned to the last Hell -  a True Soul hallmark." </p><p>All joking aside, Astarion was undeniably intrigued.  "So on that note, we can bend minds like willow now?  First, I can walk in the sun, then make people dance like puppets?"  He mimed a puppeteer and smiled airily.  "I've certainly had worse days."</p><p>"His siblings practically worshipped us."  She nodded thoughtfully.  "This could be useful."</p><p>"Handy power, if you ask me,” Wyll agreed.  “Maybe the brain bugs aren't all bad." </p><p>Amm was not so certain.  "Handy, but potentially dangerous.  Does it open the bearer to more corruption, that we might end up like these cultists?  Was that the plan for us?" </p><p>Shadowheart had been quiet, but she had clearly been considering their words.  "Or . . . maybe we aren't mind-controlled, because we have . . . shared goals." </p><p>"Perhaps - anyone know why someone might want Cazador dead?  Besides his personality, I mean.  Obviously, I'm on board with killing him, either way."  Astarion teased, but he mulled over the idea.  “I do wonder where the limit of their power lies.”  </p><p>
  <em> It would certainly cause chaos if all of his spawns were suddenly released on the city.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Seems they just need a new master.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So instead of chaos, we have a master vampire and his coven compromised by whoever put these things in our heads?  Neither option is good.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No, but both are opportunities. </em>
</p><p>"Well, if you were meant to assassinate him, you certainly were given the right tools for the job."  Amera sighed.  "We could speculate for hours, but we don't even know what is keeping them dormant - using their power could have repercussions."</p><p>Will raised his hands in a calming gesture.  "Let's just dabble here and there when we need to, then, see what happens."</p><p>"Indeed."  Astarion nodded.  "We have an opportunity to gain information on this 'Absolute’ - until we transform into floating, slimy monsters."  He ran fingers through his curls, and flashed Amera teasing eyes.  "I imagine it'll be downhill after that." </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>The bridge across the Chionthar was littered with detritus from an upended wagon.  Just on the other side, the three adventurers they had helped at the entrance to the Druid Grove huddled around several lifeless bodies.  A town lay beyond them; even from the distance it was clearly destroyed.</p><p>Aradin looked up when they approached, and his lips twisted into a sneer.  "Thought you were busy with the lads at Halsin's grove."</p><p>Amm raised her eyebrows at his tone.  "Thought you were busy leading your crew."</p><p>"Not anymore."  He glared at her and stood up.  "Planning on sucker punching any strangers again?  That's your bit, right?" </p><p>Astarion spoke up from behind her.  "Still sore about that?  You had it coming." </p><p>"Wasn't any of your business though, was it?"  He turned back to his slain associates.  "Didn't think this contract could go any worse.  Then all of you showed up."</p><p>Amm's forehead creased.  "What job was that?" </p><p>"The kind that leaves half your crew dead."  Bitterness coated his words.  </p><p>The ranger Remira let out a quiet sob, finally breaking down - she had nearly been killed in the goblin camp and been chased to the druid gate, only to suffer more loss after leaving the enclave.  “I told them to run, the idiots.”</p><p>Aradin shook his head.  “There's a wizard in Baldur's Gate that'll pay gobloads for a relic round these parts.  But gold ain't any use if you're too cold to spend it.”  </p><p>Gale’s face came into her mind again.  <em> A wizard in Baldur's Gate . . . seeking relics, and cost is no object . . . Why do I suspect that the mysterious Larroakan is involved once again?  </em></p><p>The other fighter, Barth, put a hand over his face.  “Damn it.  I wish we could at least give them a proper burial.”</p><p>Astarion's focus remained narrowed on Aradin.  "Let's say we wanted that gold.  Where would we find this relic?" </p><p>"Supposed to be hidden under the temple where the goblins jumped us.  It's called the Nightsong."  He obviously thought they were either dismissing his team’s abilities or just bloody insane.  "I'd give you a map of the temple and wish you a happy funeral, but my mate Brian kept hold of it like his own todger.  Goblins made short of the fat old chunk."  Astarion grimaced in distaste.  <em> Lovely visual. </em>  </p><p>"All I've got's the contract.  Can show you where we turned back, if you feel like dying.  Stupid thing to die for.”  Astarion nodded in thanks and took the contract.  “Heh.  Don’t thank me.  I’ll be well on my way to Baldur’s Gate when you die.  I’m just glad to be rid of the bloody thing.”</p><p>The exchange of the document pulled her from musing about this other wizard.  Amm returned her attention to the discussion, pulling the contract from Astarion’s hand.  <em> Indeed - Larroakan seems to be a busy one.</em>  “Before you go . . . I hear the druids' leader went with you.” </p><p>Aradin’s face lit with dark humor.  “As soon as he heard we had a contract to find that Nightsong relic, he was more eager than a hound in heat.  When the goblins jumped us, most of my crew scarpered, just like I taught 'em to.”  His face turned irritated at the memory.  “The old codger didn't.” </p><p>Amm’s eyebrows tried to crawl into her hairline.  “So you just left him to die . . . ?”</p><p>He returned her disbelief with a hard look.  “Yeah, and I'd do the same again.  He weren't my responsibility.  If you want to play the hero, go ask the goblins nicely, and maybe they'll give you what's left of him.”</p><p>He looked to his companions and nodded his head at the trees.  “Let’s go - happy hunting.”</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>The town appeared completely abandoned, but Amera could feel the eyes watching.  She walked in anyway, cool and collected.  From what she had seen on Zevlor’s map, the easiest way to the old Selunite temple was through the town.  </p><p>When a goblin female yelled down from a roof, she simply paused and looked up.</p><p>“Git over there!  Surround ‘em, like.  Oi!  You just walked into the wrong town.”  She waited for Amm to respond - met with silence, she tried again to gain a reaction.  “Don’t bother runnin’.  My archers got decent aim and plenty of arrows.”</p><p>Amm felt the glowing symbols on the goblin’s arm react to the parasite.  She catalogued the information, but she did not attempt to use it, instead fixing her eyes on the leader.  “I’m not running, and they aren’t good enough to save you.”</p><p>She heard Shadowheart cough behind her, and it sounded suspiciously like laughter.  <em> Rude - clerics and vampires don’t own the market on intimidation.  </em>She scowled in response; she just made sure it looked mean to the goblins.</p><p>The head goblin considered her for a moment, before raising her hand to the others.  “Hold up, lads!  This one might be more’n we bargained for.”  Amm didn’t comment, just gave her a smugly approving half-smile.  “Go on then.  Just keep your nose clean.”</p><p>She started cautiously into the town, but Wyll walked boldly toward the camp.  <em> I hope he doesn’t start anything - he’s been strangely keen on this trip since he joined us.  </em>She picked up the pace to catch him when she heard a chorus of jeers ringing out over cries for help.</p><p>A group of raucous goblins had captured a deep gnome and tied him to the windmill.  The poor thing raced through the air, upright to upside down, over and over while the goblins cheered and threatened to cook him.</p><p>By the time she arrived, Wyll was already arguing with the goblin lieutenant.  <em> What was I just thinking?  Right.  </em> “Well, I’ll be - me ol’ friend, <em> Captain Failure!” </em></p><p><em> “You!  </em> Sing for me, roach.  <em> Tell me everything you know.” </em></p><p>Amm met eyes with Shadowheart and Astarion at Wyll’s rage-filled voice.  They both looked amused . . . and interested.  <em> Wait, what? </em></p><p>The goblin, backed by an entire group that included a worg, was unimpressed.  “Heh.  I know you ain’t seein’ much out that eye pebble of yours.  An’ there’s an army of us and and just a couples o’ you, so ain’t you the one gonna be asking questions.”</p><p>Wyll’s bloodthirst affected his tadpole, and it spread to the one in Amm’s head.  She winced at the black feelings that assaulted her.  He was sick of their mockery but desperate for information.</p><p>Wyll turned to the three of them, his need stark.  “Stand with me, mates.  Carve him up - but keep him breathing.  I’ve got some questions to ask.  And I’ll <em> burn </em> the answers from his shite stained throat.”</p><p>Astarion gave him a sharp smile.  <em> Our Blade has some history here - and a temper.  </em>“Let’s give him a beating first.  We can ask questions later.”  Wyll’s relief was palpable.</p><p>The goblin lacked the wisdom of the one at the gate.  “Look at that - the captain grew some bollocks!”  He signalled the group to attack.  Wyll was obviously the fire target of the group, so Astarion treated him as the bait he was.  He went straight for their leader instead, with deadly focus.  <em> Let’s see how much loyalty they really have for this goblin. </em></p><p>He slipped into the shadow of a broken down building, letting the archers take a few easy potshots at the Blade.  Either Shadowheart would keep him alive . . . or she wouldn’t.  Amm would take care of herself - and probably light someone on fire.</p><p>His target still jeered at Wyll from behind a <em> booyahg </em> magic user.  Astarion hit him hard -  he was knocked off his feet and dragged to the ground.  He had no warning, so when he was immediately dropped and threatened with a very shiny dagger to the throat, his response was likewise immediate.</p><p>“Stop!”  The goblins closest to the group paused and looked askance at their leader.  “I give up!”  They ended their attack, but not gladly.  One of the archers called from the back and gestured to the group - they left him <em> en masse</em>.  Astarion preened at his own cunning, looking hungrily at his now-terrified prey.</p><p>His eyes darted between Astarion and Wyll, uncertain who would be more receptive to his pleas.  “M-mercy, please!  I know things, if you let me live, I’ll make it worth your while.  I p-promise!” </p><p>“Wyll?”</p><p>The Blade nodded at him.  Astarion stood, releasing him and moving back toward Amm.  The goblin stood, giving Astarion a wide berth.</p><p>“Spike - the bruiser.  <em> Where is he</em>?”  None of them had ever seen Wyll so out of control.  Shadowheart had a new gleam in her eye.</p><p>The goblin, on the other hand, had nothing but terror in his.  “The c-camp!  Eastways!  Spike’s prob’ly gettin’ his jollies in the torture cell.  Now let me go.  You got what you wanted!”  He looked like he might run, but he kept looking to see if someone might attack him if he did so.</p><p>“No - you’ve taken enough lives.  It’s time I took yours.”  The rapier slid smoothly out of its sheath, a sleek shine on its length.</p><p>The goblin backed up now, too late to save himself.  “Noo - noo!”  He turned to run, but his head hit the ground before he made it two steps.</p><p>“Well, this is new.”  Astarion’s voice was as smooth as the slice of the sword.</p><p>Amera pinned Wyll with eyes like sea ice.  “<em>You </em> owe me answers.  Your temper is completely out of control, and you need to get a handle on it.  Immediately.  Who is ‘Spike?’”  She did not raise her voice, but the fury of the Hells was <em> one </em> wrong word away from falling down on his head.  </p><p>
  <em> I hope I never see that expression directed at me.  Then again, she is quite the fiery vixen when crossed, isn’t she?  So delicious - finally, we see the flame behind all that red hair. </em>
</p><p>Wyll was obviously struggling to bring his temper back under control.  “Spike’s the goblin that ripped my eye out.  And I’ve got reason to think he’s holed up in their camp.”  He did not dare to yell, but he gestured angrily in the direction of the goblin camp.</p><p>Amm took a deep breath, trying to see the situation from his perspective.  While she was certain his fake eye was magical, a sending stone to communicate with a mysterious second party, she could absolutely understand the urge to take revenge on the one who had caused the injury in the first place.  She nodded, reluctantly.</p><p>“I’ll fill in the rest later.”  He gave a small representation of his usually gregarious smile.  “Now let’s get that gnome down before he bursts a vein.”</p><p>Shadowheart spoke to Wyll’s back as he went to the windmill controls.  “Dark secrets?  Vengeful urges?  Don’t leave me in suspense just as you threaten to become interesting.”</p><p>He paused, turning back for just a moment.  “You want the full measure of the Blade?  Take me to Spike.  All will be laid bare.”</p><p>Shadowheart mumbled.  “Interesting choice of venue, but certainly worth watching.”</p><p>Amm heard Astarion let out an approving chuckle.  <em> Gods above, Wyll.  Have a mind to your phrasing. </em>  She fought a laugh of her own.</p><p>The poor gnome wobbled out, the Blade following him to make sure he didn’t tip over.  Still, he looked like he might retch at any moment.  “<em> Urrgghh . . . Magga cammara - </em>those pestulent thugs!”  He shot a long-suffering gaze at Amm.  “Well - get on with it.”</p><p>She blinked.  “You seem a little confused.”</p><p>He looked at her as though she was a complete fool.  “You saved me.  Now you’ll extort me.  That’s how this works, yes?”</p><p>Astarion was nodding when Amm gave him a look.  He stopped.  Her face stayed neutral, but her eyebrow elevated very slightly.  “I’d rather know how you got caught.”</p><p>“My own fault, really.”  He sounded disgusted with himself.  “I should have dropped my pack and outrun those bastards.”  He sighed and shook his head.  “Alas.  Take my pack if you can find it.  The only reason those goblins caught me was its weight.  I’ll travel lightly from now on.”</p><p>She gave him a supportive smile.  “You are a little far from home for a deep gnome.”</p><p>Offense dripped from his words.  “Ignorance is alive and well it seems!  Deep gnomes aren’t restricted to the Underdark, you know - I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate for years.”</p><p>Astarion watched the awkwardness drift over her always self-controlled expression with humor.</p><p>The gnome’s face dimmed.  “I’m in search of a friend.  I fear he’s in trouble - See this?  I gave it to him years ago before I left home.”  He held out an amulet, brass with a stylized flower and a leather cord.  He hand shook.  “I found it around the neck of a thug in the Lower City.  It was speckled with blood, my friend nowhere to be found.”</p><p>Astarion winced.  He had avoided the Lower City as much as he could - that choice made for a reason.  “But I still have hope.  I’m heading to his home in the Underdark to discover what happened.”  He paused, his words intent as he spoke to the wizard.  “I <em> always </em> help my friends.  And on that note,” he became all business, “I bid thee a farewell.  If we should meet again - well, we will have met again.”</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p><em> I’m exhausted - sore everywhere, everything seems so dark.  </em>She leaned back against a tree on the exterior of camp, trying to blink away the blur to her vision.</p><p>When she opened her eyes again, she felt like she had lost some amount of time.  <em> What is going on . . . ? </em></p><p>She had no time to think about it, as suddenly Lae’zel was at her throat with a wicked looking dagger.  She did not strike, so Amm stood to face her.</p><p>She hissed miserably.  “Can you feel it crawling through you?  Tendrils squirming in your chest, gripping your heart, piercing your belly?  Your bones popping, your flesh swelling?  I can.”  She lifted the dagger again.  “I see it in you.  I feel it in me.  We are <em> lost</em>.  I will be quick with my blade.  First you.  Then the others.  Then myself.”</p><p>Amm’s tadpole intertwined with the Gith’s, no doubt trying to keep its host from dying.  Again she felt the other’s emotions - disgust and uncertainty.</p><p>She could work with that.  “It is likely just a fever, we are not in a position to end it all yet.”</p><p>It was a point to Lae’zel’s belief in Amm’s learning that she nodded.  “Bah.  I cannot trust my own mind.  So it seems I must trust yours.  I will wait.”  Her eyes were fervent, dark and determined.  “But know this:  I am watching.  If the sickness does not pass come dawn . . . I will end us all.” </p><p>She moved back to her tent, ducking inside.  No longer comfortable with her solitude, Amm moved over to the others.  Shivering, she noted how heavy her legs felt.</p><p>It took a moment for Wyll to come into focus.  “You've got wits of white steel.  Can't say I'm not impressed.”  He was staring at the fighter’s tent - it was pitch black and silent. </p><p>Shadowheart’s eyes were on Amm.  “It feels like we packed three days into one today.  I am exhausted.”  </p><p>“You as well . . .?”  Amm ran a hand over her face.  “I feel like I've matched across Toril without stopping.” </p><p>Hearing their discussion, Gale slipped out of his tent.  “What a night.  What a godsdamned . . . “  He lost his sentence in a fit of coughing.  When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, it was streaked with red.  “Blood.  That's a pretty sight.  Give it to me straight.”  He looked up at the group.  “How do I look?” </p><p>Amm tried to be positive.  “Like your handsome self, Gale.” </p><p>He smirked, not fooled in the least.  “Thanks.  That's what I thought.  You don't look so hot either.  And neither do the others.”  It was clear his mind was whirling with concern and their lack of understanding.  “So either the fish we had was bad, or - or it might just be happening.” </p><p>Despite her wretched condition, Amm still gave a bark of laughter.  “We didn't have any fish.” </p><p>Shadowheart was more practical than any of them.  “Could be the tadpole's doing.  Or not.”  </p><p>“Everything that's been happening to us so far has been most irregular.”  Amm could see him weighing the options in his mind.  “Who's to say this is not just another anomaly among many?”  He shook his head.  “My way of saying I haven't a clue.” </p><p>Wyll did his best to stay on the bright side as well.  Unfortunately, his words were interrupted at several points with coughing.  “All we can do now . . . is see what the morrow . . . brings.“  </p><p>Gale nodded firmly in response.  “I'm going to bed.  Sleep, if I can.  Find some peace, if that's possible.  Meanwhile, I'll just pretend I had the fish.”  He slipped back into his tent.</p><p>Shadowheart watched him and Wyll exit, and opened her tent flap to slip inside.  “We'll just have to wait and see.  Let's just get some rest.”</p><p>Amera was concerned that Astarion had not made any comment on their situation.  She moved on quiet feet, pulling aside the cloth of his tent to find him hunched over inside.  “Not here.  Not - not now.”  </p><p>Amm spoke very low.  “You feel it too?  The change?” </p><p>The circles around his eyes were very dark, and his cheeks looked as hollow as they ever had.  “Yes, although if you're here to ask for a quick and easy death, I'm a little busy.”  He tried to give her a smile, but it looked more like he was gritting his teeth.</p><p>“So - what's our plan?  Kill each other?”  She was resistant to even saying the words. </p><p>“Oh, you're a sweetheart, but no.  I'm saving myself.”  Iron will glittered in his eyes, their usual fire banked.  “I won't lie. I'm close to taking the devil up on his offer.  I'd choose servitude over oblivion any day.”  His expression grew desperate.  “Now if I can just contact Raphael.  If I can make a deal . . . How does one summon a devil?  Candles?  Entrails?  There has to be a way.” </p><p>“You would leave me to turn?  You said you'd kill me if it came to this.”  She was hurt, but she was not surprised.</p><p>He shrugged, a hint of his normal self flared to life.  “I'd love to, darling, but my head's spinning.  I wouldn't know which one of you to stab.”  He met her eyes.  “I feel awful.  My head's pounding, my teeth are loose.  I can barely see straight.  This is it.  The beginning of the end.”  </p><p>“Talk to me.  Maybe I can help.“  </p><p>“Help?”  He raised both eyebrows at her words.  “You can't even help yourself.  Look at you.  You're shivering.  Weak.  And I can smell the blood in your mouth.  We both know what that means.”  His words were harsh, but his heart was in his throat seeing her so beset.  </p><p>He should not have been surprised that she still fell into optimism.  “We're still alive - so it's not over yet.  We don't know that we're turning.  This could be anything.” </p><p>He gave her a gentle smile through his own misery.  “Oh, we're lying to each other now?  Excellent.  Yes, it's probably just a cold.”  </p><p>He didn’t believe it, but he wanted to take the miserable expression away.  If they were going to turn, they would do so whether he calmed her or not.  <em> Is that why she came to me? </em>  “But you're right, we probably won't change tonight.  Maybe there's still time to escape both.  Let's see if we survive the night.”  He nodded toward her bedroll.  “Better rest while you can.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Dreams 2: In the Middle Place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The second tadpole dream.</p><p>Daisy recolor via the mod.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to Larian and to WotC.</p><p>The music of the dreams is silent, but our player is becoming less so.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>the link is forged     has been forged many times now     so we dream together    and yet apart    </p><p>
  <em> ~ chosen ~ </em>
</p><p>the tadpole's power is so simple, efficient, it's surely the kindest choice, though it brings the dream    <b> <em> (beware, invisible tendrils tighten around me) </em> </b></p><p>
  <em> ~ let me come to you    i can help you ~ </em>
</p><p>the grass brushes your face    you wake slowly</p><p>
  <em> ~ i've been searching for you    you're always so far away ~ </em>
</p><p>there's the scent of growing things, but no birdsong, but if you aren't imagining it, beneath is the smell of illness    <strong> ( <em>I think that's the corruption, something is wrong</em> )    </strong></p><p>"Back off<em>, </em>I have enough crawling through my head." </p><p>gentle laughter</p><p>
  <em> ~ but I'm already here ~ </em>
</p><p>you open your eyes to a meadow    <b> <em>(why am I not in bed?)  </em> </b>    you remember being in camp, but your head was so heavy, sick and feverish   <b> <em>  (when did I go outside, it's winter, so how is it spring?)     </em> </b></p><p>Brilliantly green grass waves in a light breeze, but it does not rustle like grass.  A figure comes into focus, waiting for you to wake up.  You know him only too well, those moonlit curls, the sharp ears.  </p><p>"You frown in your sleep."  He is swathed in draping white, silver and jewels swirl in your vision, glittering in the sun, he glows to your eyes.  He is beautiful as always, but suddenly close, accessible, an angel beset with bloodlust.  </p><p>but you don't remember the tattoo, the blooded dagger on His neck     <b> <em>(neither is it His voice, I would recognize that in a million voices, always mocking, but sleek as dark silk)</em> </b></p><p>You look into black pits of eyes that seek to entangle you like shiny tar, but his expression is only sweet and concerned. </p><p>the corruption bled out of those pits like tears  <b> <em>  (streaking like mascara at a funeral) </em> </b></p><p>"There must be so much on your mind."  He touches your cheek, gentle, soft.  You close your eyes, and he blocks out the sun, shadows your face.  "You think that you're sick, that you're dying.  Are you afraid?" </p><p>He is never tender like this    <b> <em> (He is neither soft nor gentle, he is angry, sharp, like my heart when I am alone, when I am not playing to the audience) </em> </b></p><p>"Who are you?  What are you?"  You know this voice, you heard it on the nautiloid. </p><p>"You know."  His expression is solemn, this thing that wears His face.  The gleam of fang is there, but the sense of wrongness is a discordant note.  "I think in your heart, you know.  We wouldn't be here like this if it weren't destiny."</p><p>it feels like a plan, he's lying   <b> <em> (I don't believe in destiny, freedom of will exists, I am safe in my bed, only dreaming, it's just a game) </em> </b></p><p>you take a moment to try to get your bearings    <b> <em> (this place is too perfect, unreal) </em> </b>     it's a dream, you are safe in your bedroll, no doubt   <b> <em> (a fountain lets the water play nearby, a path winds away) </em> </b></p><p>He touches your shoulder, suddenly behind you, cradling your back.  "Come now, I'll make you feel better."  His face nuzzles your hair.  "Let yourself go.  Lean back." </p><p>sickness, denial     <b> <em>(fight against this false comfort) </em> </b></p><p>"You are not ready."  His voice is sad.  You know you would see grief in His face, if you turned.  You do not turn, because this is not real.  "I will return when you are.  But I do have a parting gift."</p><p>the smile, the gentleness is in his voice again, but the grass behind you is empty and you are alone again  <b> <em>   (concentrate on home)  </em> </b></p><p>fight to wake up     wake up     wake</p><p>up</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Disgruntled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>***NOTE***  Chapter 17 looks like it's jumping us a rating to Explicit.  Just a heads up!</p><p>Rain brings us to Selune's temple, putting us 4 chapters away from the end of Part 1 (!).  She was the only one with both nature skills and the aim  /  sense of humor necessary to own the goblin gate. </p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and WotC for the playground we're all on.</p><p>No photo file for this yet - somehow I don't have any pics of Varae OR Rain floating around.  V will be up soon, but Rain will just have to hang out until after Patch 4.  </p><p>Today's unofficial soundtrack addition is "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by GreenDay, courtesy of Spotify.</p><p>I should really just make a playlist, but I worry putting too much content in here is like getting carried away with packing peanuts - and our cat eats those.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rainore opened her eyes to a clear head and a cessation of illness, but memories of the dream's touch were uncomfortably close.  She had not had the willpower to resist the dream lover on her own, yet something had yanked her from his arms.  </p><p>
  <em>At least I'm still me and not a "squiddie," thank Sylvanas and thank Wyll for that fabulous term. </em>
</p><p>She felt . . . more than better.  Improved.  Strong.  She slipped out of her bedroll, noting that the group was already gathered by the fire. </p><p>She moved to join her companions, but she was intercepted by an intent Lae'zel. </p><p>"My blood is cleansed, my muscles still.  I have even been shown new might - to tug foe and fiend into reach.  Damn it all."  In her fashion, she turned back to brood in front of her tent, starting early on the ale.  </p><p>Still recovering from the gith's immediate pounce compounding her restless night, she jumped when Wyll called out to her.  <em> Celebratory coffee?  I approve.  </em></p><p>"Well look at you - fit as a fox and twice as eager!"  She gave a false laugh and a nod, relieved and glad to see her companions likewise recovered.  Clearly the reprieve had revived the lagging spirits of the camp.</p><p>Gale was already talking over a steaming mug, and he handed one to Rain absently.  Taking a moment away from his ongoing discussion with Shadowheart about holy spells, of all things, he gave her a wide smile.  "Good morning!  And it truly is, isn't it?  A very, very good morning."</p><p>"Good morning, Gale - I have a word of advice about healing spells too.  If you kill things fast enough, you don't need to worry about them."  Wyll chortled in glee, and she winked at him.  Gale gave an exaggerated huff at her dismissal of his academic meanderings, but his eyes glittered with suppressed humor.  </p><p>Seeing her wink and laugh with the warlock and the wizard, Astarion had a momentary daydream of removing their voice boxes the hard way.  <em> I have a dagger for each, and I'm conveniently ambidextrous.   </em></p><p>"Well, hello!"  He lowered his voice purposely, as beguiling a rumble as he could summon.  Her eyes flickered to him, pleasingly nervous, and she bit her lip.  <em>Oh, darling, let me help you with that.  </em>He slid his gaze to her mouth, long enough to be certain she noticed.  "Feeling better are we?  I certainly am."  He stretched, making sure to roll his shoulders and give her plenty of time to watch.  He barely held back his smug grin when her eyes followed his movements and her lips parted. </p><p>Astarion’s sultry greeting earned him an irritated glance from Shadowheart, who was far quieter than their companions.  She still gave Rain a nod, but her demeanor was subdued.  "Feeling better than you did last night, yes?"</p><p>Rain tore her attention from his sleek and newly-familiar musculature, to rest them on the thankfully practical priestess.  "Very much so.  You?" </p><p>"The same.  Not even just that.  I awoke with new . . . I don't know . . . powers?"  </p><p>Astarion was impervious to Shadowheart's disdain, oozing smug confidence at Rain's reaction to his bit of charismatic skulduggery.  "Me as well . . . Free of pain and with a new trick.  A new <em> power</em>, as you said." </p><p>"I feel it too - not just renewed, but improved."  Wyll flexed his hands experimentally.  "New talents <em> aching </em> for release." </p><p>There were nods and sips of coffee all round, the conversation falling to silence.  Astarion broke into it with a reflective tone.  "Last night, the risk of transformation - it all seems like some terrible dream now." </p><p>Gale looked at him closely.  "There's a glow about you, about everyone here.  We all feel startlingly well.  And yet there's a certain look in people's eyes.  The far off distance of a haunting." </p><p>Shadowheart eyed Rain intently.  "It was the same for you, wasn't it?  The good health, the power, the <em> dreams?"  </em></p><p>A sudden awkward hush fell over the group.  <em> All of us? </em> "As it so happens, I did have a dream last night . . . " </p><p>Astarion's eyes slid upward from his mug <em> (how does he even drink that, anyway?)</em>, and he leaned forward.  "You too?  What did you see?"</p><p>It was hard to tell if he looked for a shared experience or if he watched like she was a fly struggling to escape a water glass.  <em>Probably both - and I can't really answer that,</em> <em>now can I?</em>  "Someone . . . familiar." </p><p>His expression snapped closed.  "Yes, of course.  So did I, as it happens.  It was delightful." </p><p>His tone sounded wrong to her ear - he was lying. </p><p>Gale chimed in.  "What I saw surpassed the vivid.  The voice was too true.  The touch, too tantalizing.  I can tell you all felt the same." </p><p>Shadowheart was still eyeing Rainore.  "It's written all over your face.  I don't need to worm my way into your thoughts to know that."  Rain should have known Shadowheart wouldn't let it lie. "What were they like?  Whoever came to you, in the dream?" </p><p>"That's . . . private."  Shadowheart smirked, and Astarion was riveted, although he kept his eyes carefully on the fire.  The vampire's possessiveness flooded his brain, a vengeful blackness that waited only for her to name its target<em>.  </em></p><p>Shadowheart scoffed.  "Please.  This is no time to be bashful.  I dreamt of someone I'm<em> very </em> attracted to.  There was a promise of power." </p><p>Rainore looked everywhere but at the object of her dream.  She nodded.  "The dream person wore the face of another and tried to reassure me, chided me for resisting." </p><p>She nodded.  "Different in some ways, but the same in all the senses that matter.  I had exactly the same dream when aboard the mind flayer ship.  Don't you think that's suspicious?" </p><p>“Very.”  Gale wore his scholar's face.  “It was an expert, this apparition.  First the seduction, then the spurning, then that teasing souvenir:  'You're not ready, I'll return when you are.'  That's what I was promised." </p><p><em> It is clear that Gale regrets the quick end to that dream.  </em> Astarion looked at Rainore, feeling uncomfortable anger simmer. <em> Does she?  </em></p><p>She looked askance at the priestess.  "What did you do, in your dream?"</p><p>"I rebuffed the advances, of course.  What did you do?" </p><p>"I'll admit it - I was tempted.  I might have given in, had I not awoken."  He watched her carefully, so closely that he noticed that her gaze skittered past him.  </p><p>Shadowheart sighed and looked to her steaming mug.  "Well, I guess I can't expect everyone to show the same discipline.  But you must try to resist." </p><p>Gale nodded.  "We have some restless nights ahead of us." </p><p>"We can't take anything for granted, especially when it's to do with what's going on up here."  The priestess tapped her head, disappointment in the lesser beings she was forced to travel with thick in her voice. </p><p>Rainore set down her empty cup, her natural reticence woefully abused by the presumption of her companion.  "I think I will take a bit of a walk before we leave.  Clear out the cobwebs." </p><p>Likely that had been rude, but frankly she didn’t care.  It was bad enough having to share space with the brain bug in the first place, but to have to report out to mixed company what sorts of dreams it gave her . . . it was just too . . . </p><p>A hand touched her arm.  She was so buried in her thoughts that she left out the tiniest squeak of startlement.  </p><p>Of course it was him, and his grin confirmed that he was terribly amused at her moment of more traditionally feminine reaction.  “Gods, Astarion, you near scared me to death.”  <em> So much for the fearless wood elf ranger. </em></p><p>“Would you mind company?  I can certainly let you walk in solitude if you need it.”  His eyes were so dark she could have drowned in them, wanted to do so, if she were honest.  He offered her an arm, a courtly gesture that she neither expected nor fully understood in the middle of the woods. </p><p>“No, it wasn't the company that was the issue."  Her brow creased, and she gingerly placed her arm through his, her hand resting lightly on his sleeve.  It felt intimate, somehow, to be so close to him, walking together like this.  It was nice, and it made her wish for silly things.  To distract herself from the firm strength beneath her fingers she shared the truth - well most of it.  "Honestly, I was just not prepared to be interrogated this morning.”  She sighed.</p><p>“You said that you dreamt of someone familiar.”  <em> I will find out, my dear. </em></p><p>“Yes . . . ”  She kept her gaze very straight forward.  <em>Great, he's going to try to wheedle information now</em>?  “ . . . and you lied.”</p><p><em> Ouch. </em> He was not the one he wanted the attention focused on right now.  “Yes I, uh . . . ”</p><p>“It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“No, it’s just . . . different than the rest of you.”  His voice went lower, as if the trees themselves might hear.  “I dreamt of him.  My old master, Cazador.”</p><p>“Your old master?”  She looked up at him, concerned.  “That doesn’t sound delightful at all.”</p><p>“It . . . was not.  I . . . we don’t need to talk about it.”  He spoke the words, but he looked like the entire world was caving in on him.  </p><p>She responded without thinking, pulling her arm away to reach out directly, to touch his shoulder with concern.</p><p>He twisted away from her, his eyes hot at the pity he perceived in her actions.  She looked away, confused, her gaze fixed at the forest floor with its flora and dead leaves and the scent of damp wood. </p><p>His voice was silky, vaguely threatening.  “Besides, it isn’t like you shared, either.”</p><p>Her face froze.  “What is that supposed to mean, exactly?</p><p>“You avoided telling us who you dreamt of.”</p><p>“So did the others - yet everyone wants to crawl into my brain and swim around like the tadpole.”  Her feeling of entrapment was back again, along with a healthy dose of anger.</p><p>“And yet, I told you.  But fine, tell someone else about your wet dream, I’m staying out of it.”  Just like that, he turned on his heel and returned to the camp, leaving her more frustrated and upset than when she had escaped the campfire discussion.  </p><p>
  <em> What in the burning Hells, seriously? </em>
</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Shadowheart elected to remain in the camp.  More specifically, she insisted on staying as far from the goblin camp as she could, a decision made the moment she'd learned it was in an old Temple of Selune.  </p><p><em> It is fine; I needed a break from her prying.  </em>They retraced their steps to the destroyed town from the day before.  The goblins were back at their posts again, and they just grunted at Rain to get through as fast as she could.  They didn’t need to tell her twice.</p><p>She was uncharacteristically quiet - after having her personal information laid out at the fire like slabs of meat, she was in full mental retreat.  Still, her ears caught a comment from Astarion, and she had to listen.  </p><p>"Ever hear of a vampire named Cazador, Wyll?" </p><p>He thought for a moment.  "I don't think so.  Why, is he a friend of yours?"  She nearly snorted aloud.  <em> Yes, Wyll, because vampires are known to be quite friendly and have each other over for suspiciously red tea.  Also, all elves know each other, right?</em></p><p>Gale spoke up when Wyll showed himself to lack any real information.  "I believe he is the head of the Szarr coven in Baldur's Gate.  If the stories are true, he's a real nasty fellow."</p><p>Astarion gave one of his bitter laughs.  "I imagine the stories are true." </p><p><em> You’re really up on the social fabric of Baldur’s Gate, Gale.  </em>She just could not excise her feeling that he was the most dishonest one of the bunch, just far more successful at it than the others.</p><p>She led them out the back of the town, wandering through an old apothecary shop on the way.  “We should really come back and search in here - there could be some potions or dried herbs about.”</p><p>“Ah, and that reminds me.”  Wyll caught her attention and came to a halt in the nicely shaded interior.  “Roaches are everywhere.  Keep your eyes to the ground.  Look for the leaders.”</p><p>Rainore gave him a doubtful look.  “Eyes to the ground?  Really?”  She could practically feel Astarion’s attention perk at her teasing tone.  “Why just the leaders?  We can take them <em> all</em>, here and now.”  She gave him a friendly smile, and saw Astarion’s brows sink dangerously out of the corner of her eye.</p><p>There was no humor on Wyll’s face either.  In fact, he leaned in to be sure he made eye contact.  “Close your eyes.  Take a deep breath.  And repeat after me.”</p><p>Astarion found himself irritated again as she teased Wyll<em>. </em> He watched as she closed twinkling eyes, but it was clear that she was just waiting to razz the Blade even more.  </p><p>“‘I promise I won’t go on a rampage.’"  She lifted a brow, eyes  still closed.  "Go ahead, say it.”</p><p>Completely deadpan, she opened her eyes.  “I promise, Grandfather.”  </p><p>“Ugh.”  He looked like he had a headache on the way.  He ran a hand over his head.  “I didn’t think <em> you’d </em> be such a handful.”</p><p>She pulled out an arrow, cleaning her nails with the razor sharp tip.  Wyll finally broke, laughing and heading down the steps to the camp.  “You can be a real arse, you know that?  I’m beginning to think you weren’t alone in the woods by choice.”</p><p>“That’s hurtful, of course I was - I shot everyone that irritated me, so of course there were no survivors.”  She heard a choking sound next to her - repressed laughter she guessed.</p><p>“Just find the bosses and slit their damned throats, all right?”  He lifted his hands as if he was pleading for divine assistance.  “Take them out, and the camp falls apart.”</p><p>Astarion considered assisting him right into unconsciousness, but that was unfair when he was vexed with Rain. </p><p><em> On that note . . . </em>“Right, so, here we are.  Surrounded by filth.”  His voice was scathing.</p><p><em> Wait, is he talking to me?  </em>Astarion had apparently decided to go back to speaking to her again, but only to criticize their plans.  <em> What has him in such a foul temper?  </em></p><p>“Tell me you had a plan beyond ‘put us in danger?’”</p><p>She sighed.  “ . . . Yes.  We keep our distance, maintain a low profile, and scout the camp.”  She was not sure she’d kept the building frustration out of her voice.  <em> But, by Sylvanas, he is tough to handle after that dream.  All I can think of is his hands touching me, and all that lovely skin beneath jewels and draped fabric. </em> Pictures flashed into her head in rapid succession, and she flushed.</p><p>“A low profile?”  His was scornful.  “I’m twice as tall as these runts.”</p><p>
  <em> Yes, and it's all muscles and moonlight - I am quite well aware.   </em>
</p><p>“Like I was saying,” Wyll spoke back up again, clearly missing that Astarion’s sourness had nothing whatsoever to do with goblins.  <em> Astarion was the one who agreed to this little event in the first place - you'd think he'd be more supportive, </em>“eyes to the ground, ears to the skies, whatever.  Point is, there’s too many of them.  And they’re well organized.  We have to go after the bosses.”</p><p>"No time like the present, then, right?"  Rainore walked up the path straight to the front gate.  </p><p>Astarion watched her walk, eyes drawn to the smooth leathers that slicked down her back and legs.  He had been needling her, but instead of getting angry with him, her eyes had gone soft, and her heart had sped up.  </p><p>Realization came around and finally hit him in the back of the head - the dream person had been him.  <em> I'm sure of it - that's why she's so prickly.  </em> His eyes sparked.  <em> Now to confirm it . </em> . . </p><p>"This 'ere is a private party, unless you got another reason to be here, feck-shite."  The goblin crossed his arms and looked bored.  The worg standing next to him growled. </p><p>"Beautiful animal there.  Does she belong to the <em> Nordiland worgata </em> family?"  The ranger gave the worg a considering eye. </p><p>The goblin had no clue how to react properly to the unexpected topic of discussion.  He scowled, confused.  "How'd you know?  Dumb as a rock, but world class at tearin' the throats outta wee ones, she is.  Rest of her litters' inside, in the pens."   His gaze turned proud.  "Beautiful beasts."  </p><p>
  <em> She charms goblins, now?   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Why not?  She charmed a vampire spawn - of course the gate sentry is more intelligent.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I am not charmed.  I do not chase my lovers, they come to me.  She will be no different.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Please.  You moon after her like a love-sickened pup and turn bitter when she pays you no attention.  </em>
</p><p>Astarion scowled, but continued to watch the show.  "She looks fierce.  Is she battle-tested?"  </p><p>The goblin puffed his chest importantly.  "'Course.  Ripped out three belies on our last raid alone."  His face turned crafty.  "Be a shame if you came all this way without havin’ a look.  But I can’t let you pass just like that.  Celebratin' a raid, we are.  You’ll need to wear our war colors.”  He pointed to a pile of worg droppings.  “Nice dab o’ this across the mug oughta do it.”</p><p>Rain smirked at him but did not respond.  Aww,<em> he's volunteering to be an arrow target.  How welcoming.   </em></p><p>“Go on.  And don’t skimp, neither!”</p><p>She bent down and heard him chuckle in expectation.  She eyed a nice flat rock and slipped it into her hand.  It appeared that four of them were in range - quick as a blink, she swept the droppings into the air with the rock, nailing three goblins and the worg. </p><p>“Looks like you all are ready to celebrate now!”  She laughed madly as they screeched in fury, and she fired an arrow into the huge war drum that would have alerted the camp.</p><p>“Godsdammit!”  Wyll’s voice cut through the melee, irritated at her for starting a conflict with the gate guards, but Astarion and Gale were laughing as they joined the battle.  Astarion sent an arrow into the back of the guard up on the gate, and Gale threw a stream of magic toward the lookout way above them on the bluff.  </p><p>“Don’t worry, Wyll,” she laughed to him, firing off another shot which knocked the little ranger from her perch over the entrance, “there’s not enough of them here to count as a rampage.”</p><p>She felt a little bad when the worg went for him, but he slipped away with a Misty Step and flames streaked for the animal.  It’s fur on fire, it bowled her to the ground, and the angry goblin that had spoken with her threw an acid bomb.</p><p>It hurt like the Hells, but she rolled out of it and grabbed a canteen from her belt.  She dumped the contents over her stinging skin.  For his trouble, the goblin earned a set of daggers through the heart, sapping his strength, and he died with Astarion drinking down mouthfuls of his blood.  It was terrifying to witness the helpless fear enter and leave his eyes within only a few breaths. </p><p>The worg, recognizing that her favored goblin had been taken down by the elf, ran at him too late, only to be finished off by a streak of red magic from Wyll.  The last goblin took a face full of magic missiles, and the gate was theirs.</p><p>“Okay.”  Wyll sounded a bit more under control having been reminded of the high level of support his companions could provide.  “Fezzerk said there was a path over here that led to a temple entry on the terrace."</p><p>“It’s here.”  Gale’s voice floated from the top of the lookout tower.  Sure enough, a careful glance revealed a cunning system of foot and handholds that made a rough staircase down the bluff to the Chionthar.  A rope ladder some ways further on led back up to the bluff.</p><p>Rainore, eyes scanning for anything that could cause them issues ahead, clambered down the rock face and made for the rope ladder.  Astarion kept pace with her, but the other two men were less sure climbers.  </p><p>A low, sleek voice took the opportunity to murmur softly into her ear as she walked across; he was so close that she could feel a cool breath brush her ear.  She shivered.  “So, my dream of Cazador was a, pardon the pun, dead ringer for the real thing.  Was my doppelganger equally true to . . . uh . . . life?”</p><p>She nodded absently, her eye on the guard who paid them no mind.  Realizing too late what she agreed to, she made a choking sound and her eyes flashed to him, blushing full to the roots of her hair.  “Oh, Gods.  How . . . ?”</p><p>“Really, my dear, it just took me a bit to put it all together.”</p><p>She huffed, and climbed nimbly up the ropes.  “It was . . . just some dream.  Everyone dreamed of someone they knew.”</p><p>He didn’t respond - she was as well aware as he that the group had dreamed of potential or past lovers.  He had no need to state it aloud.  </p><p>She turned to the rope ladder to check on the others, but she caught his eyes instead - a wolfish predator looked back at her.  She stopped breathing.</p><p>The Blade and Gale finally arrived at the top of the steps and broke the moment.  She took a deep breath to try to get her mind on their goal, and the four walked as brazenly as they could to a ladder that accessed the terraces.  </p><p>They had been concerned about suspicions being raised about their presence, but finally some luck turned their way.  The entire camp was in the midst of a drunken celebration, a raucous party below, passed out drunks above.  Rain shook her head with a raised eyebrow.  “Looks like the booze got the better of them.  They’re practically unconscious.”</p><p>Their path was clear of any camp residents that weren’t sleeping it off.  So convinced were they by their good fortune, that the collapsed tunnel that met them on their arrival left them feeling a bit stymied.</p><p>"Thoughts?"  Her mind felt like an overcooked bowl of porridge.</p><p>“I feel like I can knock that out of there, but it’s going to wake the entire terrace.”  Wyll gave their conundrum a considering eye.</p><p>Gale nodded.  “I think I can help you there.”  His hands twinkled with purple, and the terrace fell into a deeper sleep.  He bowed slightly and gestured to Wyll.  A streak of red flew out of his hands, blasting a pile of rubble and sending ash and dust out of the hole in a cloud.</p><p>Across the terrace, they heard several voices yell in surprise, but without hesitation they ducked through the entrance and into the heart of the Absolute’s goblin foothold.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Depravity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Quick reminder that the story has cautions for references to torture, BDSM, and trauma, so if that sounds like something you aren't going to enjoy, you'll want to skip out on the first couple sections and catch us back at the fight scene.</p><p>V rejoins us for the most bloody chapter of Part 1, because let's give honesty where it's due:  it's kinda her thing.</p><p>By necessity, our dear Vamp Rogue is a bit hardened in this scene.  His normal secret heart or his reaction to being a consort of a drow lady?  You decide.  Either way, they are cute in that matched set kinda way.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A few quick translations, credit again belongs to "The Drow Dictionary."</p><p>L'ALURI GOL ZHAH ELGHINYRR POL. - The best goblin is a dead goblin.<br/>LIL ALURI VELVE ZHAH LOL ALURI VELKYN USS. - The best knife is the unseen one.<br/>SSUSSUN PHOLOR DOS! - Light take you!  (Drow curse)<br/>USSLAN UIL DOSSTA EHLGINN, ELG'CARESS! - I am your death, bitch!<br/>USSTA OLATH - my darkness</p><p>Thanks as well to Larian and WotC.</p><p>As per our norm, the song for this chapter is "Wicked Garden" by Stone Temple Pilots, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> "Oh, I must see this, don't you dare say no."  </em>
</p><p>His own words mocked him as he watched the other man hit her with his sharpened flail, using the clubbed handle as much as the metal ends.  The strikes wrung angry sounds, but her head did not bow.  </p><p>After slipping silently down to the floor from the rafters where they had gained temple access, Wyll and Gale had pulled out their invisibility spells and left in opposite directions to scout the temple for the goblin leadership.  V and himself were left with nothing to do but listen to Priestess Gut branding her own people, so it was no surprise that their attention had been pulled to the unmistakable sound of self-flagellation.</p><p>
  <em> For a cult of pain, this Maiden of Loviatar is a blunt instrument.  This might have been a lovely diversion, but instead simply appears to be . . . a problem.  </em>
</p><p>He had been an absolutely debased rake in life, and when her eyes flashed a hot crimson at his challenge, those long-suppressed desires gleamed like cut rubies.  V had walked to that wall like a sacrificed queen, stripping plate as she went.  White sheer linen clung to her lithe form, darkened with her areolas and other, more hidden places. </p><p>Then the first blow fell, and she loosed a hiss of pain.  The sound was familiar - he had heard it when his fangs parted her smooth skin, slipping into her sweet softness and the lifeblood hidden beneath.</p><p>He was far from unaffected . . . and his monster was restrained by a razor thin leash.  </p><p>There was no denying she took the blows for him, because he’d asked her, just as she had given him her blood and her strength.  If he really concentrated on the tenuous blood-connection his feeding had created, he could feel the angry pulsing of her pain.  He was no drow, but he recognized her actions as a deadly courtship. </p><p>It was hellishly effective.  Crimson gashes crossed smooth slate, a red-stained horror, and he wanted to force her down on the cold stone floor and lick them, reveling in the sounds she would make as he took her, pain and pleasure bringing her to a mindless orgasm.  He swore he could imagine the taste of the overwhelming sensory overload it would send into her bloodstream. </p><p>"Did you even hit me, priest?" she hissed, and the Maiden's eyes lit.  It was clear then that he excised his selfish lusts upon his victim, an action that clearly had little to do with his deity but much to do with his own twisted needs.  </p><p><em> MINE.  </em>The word crashed through his brain. Monster and elf in immediate consensus - the foolish Maiden of Pain would die for touching Her for his own purposes.  A growl of blind fury rumbled in his chest.  For a moment, he considered tearing out the offender's throat, canines tingling in rage.  Instead, the gleam of a ritual dagger used by the now-condemned priest caught his eye, begged for use.  </p><p>Once decided, red-tinged eyes fell half-closed in suspense of the kill.</p><p>Slowly, he slid to the wall, taking care to appear calm, nearly stationary.  He worked his way across the room, finally slipping under the table.  With the priest’s next gruesome swing, the dagger was his.  He slipped slowly back to his place by the stone bookcase, movements stilled in the long patience of the undead.</p><p>He moved directly behind this creature who had dared in his hubris to covet a vampire's prize, but he spoke with his usual sardonic grace.  "Hmm . . . Looks like that's going to bruise."  </p><p>The Maiden of Pain gave a start, beginning to turn, anger on his face, but fell gracelessly into Astarion’s arms instead.  Astarion pulled the man's own dagger from his spine, and drank his fill.  He dropped the helpless man to the ground, eyes staring up at the satisfied rage of his killer, holding onto life just long enough to realize his fatal misunderstanding.  He died in a pool of blood, V's and his own. </p><p>"Well, that wasn't something I expected to see today."  </p><p>Wyll's comment floated behind him, but Astarion's eyes were fixed on Varae who had fallen to her hands and knees on the reddened flagstones.  She lifted her head, eyes red-rimmed but fixed to his without fear, blood welling from the lip she had bitten.  He had seen nothing so alluring in all his centuries.  <em> No.  Oh no.  I am truly attached.  Shar’s mercy, this is bad. </em></p><p>"<em>Lil alurl velve zhah lol alurl velkyn uss." </em>  Her voice was hoarse, but no tears dampened her eyes.  "Gale."   </p><p>Healing magic exploded around her, and Astarion backed away, newly awakened to the reality of his relation to the lovely drow.  </p><p>As the intensity faded from the moment, he recognized that his feelings endangered her.  He was free for now, but if Cazador were to crush his will again, he would force Astarion to kill her slowly.  She would die screaming as her trusted companion tortured her to death.  It had happened before, more than once - and this time, he wouldn’t have two centuries of numbness to escape from it.</p><p>Bile rose in his throat, and he stumbled from the room, lest he vomit the Maiden’s blood in front of the others. </p><p><em> "Ussta olath? </em>"</p><p>He heard V call for him, and pulled the shadows around him, the gift of his dream blending with the black corridors of the desecrated temple.  He glided his way to a bridge overlooking a misty lake far below, and emptied his stomach, blood streaked tears staining his face.  </p><p>He was on the edge of full-blown panic at the fear of Cazador getting his claws on her - he needed to get his head back, to be the blade she so often called him.  It was that image that carried him through, steel did not allow anything to affect its nature.  If he were to be her assassin, and he wanted terribly much to take his reward and what came with it, he would have to be as unyielding.  Goal in mind, he managed to get his fear under control again, somehow. </p><p>He indeed had a problem, but he had no time to deal with it now.  If the magic users were back, they had found their targets, and he had made a vow to Wyll.  He may be weak and corrupted, but he would honor what agreements he had made by his own oath.  <em> They are few enough as it is. </em> </p><p>V was furious, hot on Wyll’s trail when Astarion quietly fell into step behind her.  <em> This short-sighted fool is going to bring the entire temple down on us at once! </em></p><p>Wyll had heard a man scream from torture in the next room, and then he heard the goblin’s voice.  “Spike.”  He said just the one word and swept out of the room with a flourish, all plans for their surgical strike flown with control of his temper.</p><p>“Poor lad.  I’m only gonna make it hurt more.”  A diminutive form in green robes stood in front of the young adventurer - it was most certainly Liam, the young man who had not escaped with the few left of Aradin’s team.  He hung helplessly from a rough rack, exhausted and beaten.  Wyll walked into the cave-like space lit only by a single brazier with torture tools at the ready - V caught up to him in time to see his silhouette limned by mist and orange light.  <em> Shite. </em></p><p>The torturer had no idea that his fate had just found him.  “Where did they flee to, you <em> rat?” </em></p><p>The young man’s face was a mess of blood - nose broken, one eye swelled shut, but he still managed to beg.  “P-please, stop . . . “</p><p>“Spike.”  The Blade’s voice echoed out beyond the terrace into the blackness beyond.  “Enough.”</p><p>Spike turned with a sharp grin.  “Look what the Absolute dragged in.  It’s my pussycat - the Blade of Frontiers!  You come for a rematch?  Can’t wait to add the remaining eye to my collection!”</p><p>“I’m not here for you.  I’m here for the woman.”  Wyll’s voice had a line of granite running beneath it that V had never heard before.  <em> Sorry, ‘the woman?’  </em> “I know you took her.  Where is she?  <em> Where is Mizora?” </em></p><p>The goblin’s face split in the smile of one who had found a new toy, a new lever against a soul.  “That Mizora lass a friend o’ yours, Blade?  Smells funny when you burn her.  Screams real good, too.  Tell you what, pussycat.  Make this rat squeal and I’ll take you right to her.”</p><p>Astarion watched Wyll carefully, prepared to take him down if he endangered their goal.  He knew the look on the man’s face only too well - if he perceived there was no way out, he would roll over like an overfed canine.  “You want me to . . . to torture him?  Forget it.”</p><p>“Then forget your precious lady-mate and slink out of here.”  Spike turned, dismissing him and returning to his work.</p><p>V stepped between them, standing straight and looking down her elegant nose at the rough goblin.  “Wyll does not have the skills you desire.”  The green painted face turned back to her.  “Let me handle your prisoner for you.”  Her voice purred in a way that made Astarion’s spine tingle.  <em> Bloody Red Hells. </em></p><p>The goblin’s eyes turned to her with interest.  “Your chum’s all right, pussycat.  Go on - give it a go.”</p><p>The man gasped and pleaded again for an end to the torture.  Astarion’s eyebrows rose.  He did not believe for a moment that she intended to torment a helpless man to get Wyll information.  He held himself at the ready, waiting to back her play, whatever it was.</p><p>She walked to the brazier, picking a long spike blackened with heat.  She held it in front of her eyes, consideringly.  Her mouth cut into a slash of cruel humor.  <em> A spike for a Spike. </em> Grace and speed flowing, she spun like a dancer and drove it clear through the stomach of the green clad goblin.  Spike’s eyes were wide and shocked, and he let out a scream that would have made the Maiden of Pain faint dead away.</p><p>“You lack the proper respect for your betters, scavenger.  It’s time to sing, little bird.”  She hissed the words, then tore the cauterizing iron from his gut viciously.  He screeched again, falling to the ground.  Wyll was being held in check by Gale, who somehow was finally on board with their mindset.  <em> Seeing the kid hanging there put us on the same team for once. </em></p><p>The goblin could see she was perfectly happy to end his miserable life.  He spat blood, furious but unwilling to face down V.  His eyes turned to the Blade, full of hate.  “You want her that bad, eh?  Well you better get sniffin’, pussycat, cuz she’s long gone.”  He laughed, painfully.  “But I’ll tell you who took her - ain’t like you’ll catch up.  Gone with the drow.  They got <em> big </em> plans for her."</p><p>Still restrained by Gale, Wyll had no choice but to restrict his own response to words.  “The gods be damned, I will rip you to shreds!”</p><p>Spike gave a rictus grin in return, secure in retaining his life having provided the requested information.  His eyes flew up in shock as he felt a hand close around the back of his robe and lift him in the air.  V jerked her chin toward the chasm, and Astarion threw him shrieking over the edge.  The sound cut off suddenly.</p><p>V turned glittering eyes to the bleeding kid, as Astarion picked the lock holding him in place.  He looked terrified at the merciless drow before him, but she remained expressionless as healing light spread to him from Gale’s hands, and the ruby-haired drow helped him down.  </p><p>His voice was uncertain.  “Thank you, I . . . I’d better go, before they catch us.”  He looked in his hand where Gale had slipped a bit of scroll.  His eyes teared up, realizing it was an invisibility scroll.  “I sh-should be able to make it to the grove on my own then.  They need to know they’re in danger.”</p><p>He disappeared in front of them and slipped away.</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Per their updated plan, the three men slipped into the shadows to watch as V went down to the priestess alone.  She walked confidently to the oversized throne of wood and bone and leather binding, the smell of burnt flesh heavy in the air.</p><p>“Now, here’s somebody special.  The Absolute has touched you, hasn’t She?”  Feathers and skulls decorated the wizened body, skin the color of aged leather.  “Priestess Gut needs to touch you too - hold out your arm so I can mark your flesh.”</p><p>V sneered at her, drow nobility highlighting every inch of her face.  “I’m not letting you burn me for life on a whim.”  </p><p>Gut looked deeper at V and then nodded.  “Maybe you don’t need it.  After all, you’re special, ain’t you?  Like me.”</p><p>Black fingers of sensation assaulted V’s mind, the feel of another parasite, this one fat and lethargic with power and malice.  Seeing an opportunity, the drow pushed into the priestess’s mind - insanity and blind faith were washed in knowledge and cunning.</p><p>“I feel you in there, digging around.  Works both ways, and I saw some weird shadows swimming around in your head just now.”  Her face smoothed.  “Maybe I can help with that.  Us True Souls got to look out for one another.”</p><p>V nodded regally, appearing grateful.  “Any help would be appreciated.  Can we talk privately?  This is a sensitive matter.”</p><p>The crone’s voice croaked an assent.  “Of course.  Don’t want this rabble interfering with True Soul business.  Let’s go to my chapel.”  She hobbled from the throne and moved to the stairs on the other side of the hall.</p><p>
  <em> Okay, gents.  Get moving across those roof beams. </em>
</p><p>The chapel was another unmarked room, but the door had a secure lock.  One side opened to another water filled chasm, with plenty of room for her companions to slip in if she needed them.  A door off to the side led deeper into the temple.  <em> Quiet exit if we need it. </em></p><p>“Ready to clear your head?”</p><p>“When you are prepared.”</p><p>The priestess smiled, gapped teeth still sharp.  “Smart.  All you need to do is open yourself to the Absolute, and I’ll do the rest.”</p><p>Her thoughts assaulted V more strongly this time, the parasite working to open her mind to its influence.  <em> No, you don’t, foul thing. </em></p><p>“It’s all slippery in there.  What are you hiding?”  The goblin pushed harder, straining to gain a hold.  “This ain’t right.  Why are you resisting me if you’re one with the Absolute?”  </p><p>The psionic probe was simply unable to penetrate V’s mental defenses.  The priestess glared in frustration.  “There’s something wicked burrowed in your brain.  I can’t get a grip on it.”  She shrugged.  “Best start praying for help.”</p><p>She turned to her altar for a moment, offering a prayer of her own.</p><p>
  <em> She has no idea she is infected with a parasite. </em>
</p><p>She heard the scuff of a boot over by the open area of the room, and the unmistakable click of a forced lock.  “Wha-?”</p><p>The priestess turned to see Astarion in front of the door, and opened her mouth to yell for assistance.  As she took the breath to call the guards, Gale dropped her into a sleep spell.  It was a simple swing of steel to sever her head from its shoulders.  “Good riddance.  <em> L'alurl gol zhah elghinyrr gol.”  </em>She kicked the priestess’s head away with her boot.</p><p>“Impressive.”  Wyll nodded in approval.  <em> Not sure you get an opinion right now, sneak.  </em>“I suggest we move to the drow next - there is a walkway that takes us over to the drow’s wing.  There’s another drum and some floating eyeball thing.”</p><p>Gale added, “That is a good plan - the head of their forces has his own group of admirers.”</p><p>They followed Wyll up to the ceiling area and moved across to the vantage he had found.  Sure enough, the drow stood at a table covered with maps and scrolls of notes yelling at an underling for their failure to break the prisoner.  Astarion touched V’s arm.  He carefully pulled out his bow, gesturing three fingers to the deep shadows on the other side of the room.  V nodded and waved the others to follow, disappearing into the dark.</p><p>He pulled his longbow silently, carefully sighting the drum.  He caught sight of the floating eyeball below him in the corridor.  He shifted his target quickly, and a silent arrow sliced the air, pinning the eyeball which fell into another pit.  He returned his sight to the war drum, waiting until the drow’s anger hit a fever pitch.  His arrow cut the dark with a hiss, taking the drum over the ledge and into the silent blackness.</p><p>An alarm went up from the goblin with the priestess, but Astarion had already melted back into the shadows.  A second guard came running to the far end of the room, leaving the entrance to the second room clear of watchers.  Astarion waved the others to move down and into the room, pausing for a moment to look for anything else that might prove problematic for a fast and quiet assassination.</p><p>His eyes narrowed . . . on their side of the water that cut across the drow female’s domain stood a pair of ladders meant to connect the far room with the one they needed to isolate.  He pulled a fire arrow, carefully aiming for a space that would catch both wooden ladders.  He would have to move fast, but he didn’t want a chance of reinforcements.  </p><p>The fire arrow arced across the room, as his companions gained the small bridge that led to the priestess.  The goblins yelled, seeing the ladders catch fire brilliantly, dry wood nicely flammable.</p><p>V pulled her sword from her back, meeting the eyes of the fellow Lloth-betrayer.  "You exchange one cursed and corrupt goddess for one lesser.  <em> Ssussun pholor dos!</em>"  The other drow was clearly stunned to face one of her own, the real possibility of her death mocked her in cutting red eyes. </p><p>“Kill the attackers!”  The drow’s voice snapped at the guards and they charged the three on the ground.  She threw a powerful blessing to the goblins, and three mirror images of drow women surrounded her.</p><p>As planned, the two men unloaded their supply of scrolls first on the priestess.  Magic missiles flew from both Gale and Wyll, hammering through her defenses.  She shrieked in fury, casting a heal spell to heal the burns as quickly as she could.  Seeing the confusion, Astarion called the Misty Step scroll to hand, flashing down to the goblin ranger who had gained height and sighted Wyll.</p><p>He jumped when Astarion appeared before him, flashing fangs and reaching for him.  He stumbled back, shooting the vampire point blank in the chest.  Unfortunately for his continued survival, he missed the heart, and his attacker tore the arrow out and savagely went for the ranger’s throat.  </p><p>His body sailed into the cavern beyond moments later, drained and unconscious. </p><p>The drow, the infamous Minthara, had seen him savage the goblin, identifying his weakness in that moment.  Holy flames arced toward him, singing his shoulder near to the bone as he slid into a crouch.  He felt the magic leech into his system, and it felt like his arm was on fire.  <em> Bloody priests, damn their spells to the ninth Hell.  </em></p><p>V saw the streaking spell light the entire room, exploding on top of the elf.  Gale twinkled with faerie fire, healing himself and Astarion as quickly as he could.  </p><p>Familiarity slowed time around her, and old memories rose.  The dark mustiness of the cavern smelled of home, and the pure pleasure of seeing another of her kind underlined the unfortunate need to kill her.  She smiled and lit the priestess with her own magic.  She yanked her sword from the gut of the second goblin and stalked the drow. </p><p>
  <em> "Usslan uil dossta ehlginn, elg'caress!" </em>
</p><p>Minthara narrowed her eyes at the approaching swordswoman and her obscenities.  She pulled back to throw another spell . . . And her brow lowered in confusion as all the strength leached from her arm.  The Blade's rapier slid out from her heart, as he suddenly became visible behind her. </p><p>As the lights left her eyes, V turned her back on her kin, a final slight that she would die alone in shame and damnation. </p><p>Gale had moved to see to Astarion's shoulder which was a mess of burns.  She made eye contact with him but was reassured that his eyes were clear.  He gave her a nod in return.</p><p>“Two of the three are down, chief.”  Wyll was at her shoulder, and the nerves coming off him were nearly visible.  She gestured for him to walk with her and moved to Minthara’s war table.</p><p>“The final one will be the most challenging, I fear, although admittedly more of a simple brawl than taking on a drow priestess.  Hobgoblins are low-intellect bullies.”  She gestured to the map spread out on the table, marked in a pattern that was slowly closing in on the druid grove.  “We were none too soon, either, this priestess was no fool.”</p><p>“I am sorry for keeping so much information from you, boss.”  He looked truly repentant.</p><p>She tapped a sharp nail on the stone table, crumbling like everything else in the temple.  “I am the last one to question your right to hold secrets.”  Crimson eyes were calm, the bloodlust had faded away.  “I would ask that you take the lesson here, however, and you learn it well.  If one of us is weak, all of us may fall.”</p><p>“After we are finished with this hobgoblin and return to the camp, no more secrets.”  His brown eye was intent and fervent.</p><p>“I believe that you will make it right.  Already you blooded your sword in a finish for the histories - The Invisible Blade, in point of fact.”  She smiled as the wizard and Astarion returned to them.  She turned to Astarion.  “<em>Ussta Olath, </em>you appear somewhat less singed.  You are fortunate to have survived the blast of a former priestess of Lloth - even I would hesitate to move against such a one had I your particular vulnerability.”  </p><p>Her face was strangely vulnerable - he was not used to seeing her chiseled will softened with concern.  <em> She struggled with some remaining tie to kill this drow.  I wonder why she left her people - clearly, she still holds them in regard. </em>  “I am happy to report that it is only a bit stiff now, but perhaps I might refrain from any more distance archery for a while.”  His expression was bland, but he could tell she picked up on his teasing when the left corner of her mouth twinged a touch upward.</p><p>“Well, then it is a good thing that you seem to have eliminated so many problem targets before we even engaged the drow.”  He soaked in her praise, as V rarely gave it to anyone. </p><p>“Our final target awaits us in the back hall, people.”  Wyll was once again all business.  “There are actually two drums in the room, however - one on the steps and another that rests directly beside our target.”</p><p>V pointed a finger at Gale.  “We should not be dealing with magic of the sort held by Minthara - Are you able to take both out in a single volley?”</p><p>Gale nodded solemnly.  “We used our scroll collection - but what magic I have will ensure we are not interrupted.”</p><p>She nodded, and her long strides led her to the drow’s body.  Slinging the limp corpse over her shoulder, she walked to the edge of the cavern and dropped her over.  She turned and left the room without another word.</p><p>The hobgoblin, Dror Ragzlin, was across another chasm, but they could hear him chanting as they left Minthara’s wing of the temple.  “<em>Shuugaan.  A shuulkac.  O taash okec dor.” </em></p><p>They arrived at the doorway, to see him attempting to work magic on the body of a mind flayer.  If V was not mistaken, it looked suspiciously like that one who’s head she had stomped into the dirt.  </p><p>“I command you, corpse: speak!  Reveal truth to the Absolute!”</p><p>Wyll spoke her mind for her.  “By Balduran’s bones . . . “</p><p>“Nothing!  Must be reading it wrong!”  Ragzlin was obviously in a rage that he had not been able to ensorcell the disgusting thing to speak.</p><p>Wyll’s voice was low.  “This is the big boss.  <em> Strike him down.” </em></p><p>V raised a hand and nodded to the dead thing on the ground.  They had information to gather as well, and it appeared the hobgoblin might be of some assistance.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Druids (4 of 4)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I didn't know we were going to give Nightfall a resolution, yet here are.  I also hadn't planned on the third tadpole dream, but it's short - heck, let's make this bugger 21 chapters.  We're having fun, right?</p><p>The same warning applies for this one - if you don't want to think about what happened to Astarion, and he didn't already tell you, probably give the last bit of this a pass if you are sensitive to references to torture.</p><p>That being said, its pretty light, but the grown-up stuff is hard on its heels as we approach the end of Part 1.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and WotC, and since patience is not my life skill, thank you once again to figs999 for unlocking the druid class with the Playable Druid Class mod found on Nexus.</p><p>The unofficial soundtrack for this chapter is "Stone" by Downhere, courtesy of Spotify.  I surely do know what genre it is, but when it works, it works.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nightfall walked past the two human initiates toward Raglin's raised dais.  Yet another throne stood behind him, this one more function than form.  Still, it was clear which of the three leaders had held power and which wanted to look like they did.  The hobgoblin towered over his small half circle of followers, red warpaint highlighting the blood-red cast of his yellowed eyes.  When she approached, his tadpole connected with hers, and it was nearly painful - ale and hate slid against her mind, corrupt and rotten. </p><p>“If it isn’t another True Soul.”  He regarded her with interest, silent to the onlookers, but his voice boomed painfully in her head.  <em> You ever talk to a dead squid?  Here’s your chance. </em></p><p>She winced internally, pretending ignorance and speaking aloud.  She had no interest in feeling his sickness slithering around in her mind any more than necessary.  “What kind of ceremony is this?”</p><p>He returned to speech, his tone proud and strong.  “Found the squiddie near that tentacle ship.  Absolute wants to know who killed it and ran off.”  He gave her a yellowed grin, teeth sharp.  “Who better to tell us than the corpse?”</p><p><em> Who better, indeed?  It clearly won’t talk with me, because I stomped its head in.  </em>“Then let the ceremony proceed.”  </p><p>Ragzlin returned to his brazier, adding something to the flames that burned with choking black smoke.  He spoke again, his voice demanding, and it echoed up to the rafters of the great hall and down into the pits below.  “I command you corpse:  speak and say sooth.  <em> Lhuuk an ac akuul’dec shuulkokec!” </em></p><p>This time the magic responded to him and brilliant white light slid around the tentacled horror; a poisonous green writhed within its glow.  The corpse lifted itself into a grisly mimicry of life, floating in the air, its tentacles waving.</p><p>Nightfall slipped into the mind of the war leader, feeling only a slight resistance which quickly faded into calm.  He was focused on his own interrogation - he unknowingly searched for the people in front of him, calling to the memory of the dead, but the words he spoke would be hers.</p><p>He voiced his first demand.  “What were you doing in Faerun?”  She felt an immediate backlash of confusion.  As yet, he was uncertain what had happened, and it gave her more time.</p><p>The mind flayer did not speak in words, but instead a vision poured into Raglin’s mind.  She could see the chase play out again, red dragons breathing fire while devilkin rampaged the nautiloid.  The githyanki riders flew their dread steeds into sharp declines, spreading damage as they went with silver swords and flame.  The ship lurched, as the satellite control panels melted into uselessness.  Pods filled with precious cargo were broken, burned.  The gith knew - they were purposely hunting for this nautiloid, and they had found it.</p><p>
  <em> They knew?  What does this even mean? </em>
</p><p>She could feel Ragzlin struggle to ask on the survivors, but she still held the reins over his words.  Frustration ringed his expression when instead he asked the monster, “Who is the Absolute?”</p><p>This time, he was aware that something was wrong, and that this something was inside his mind.  He struggled against the silver cords holding him - it hurt, but Nightfall had no intention of letting him slip the bonds.</p><p>This time the vision was more direct - the weapons of the Absolute’s followers unleashed violence upon Faerun, drow blades threw blood in arcs of gore, goblins torched villages, gnoll teeth tore into soft flesh, rent bone.  Behind it all was a circle of mind flayers in absolute union, holding all in a vice of absolute power and control.</p><p>Ragzlin’s mind reeled while he continued to struggle.  She could feel his belief strain under the corpse’s response - for a moment, he held doubt of his faith before anger and renewed resistance returned to claw at her control.  She struggled to hold him in check, feeling her own thoughts strain to contain his emotions.  “You’re kidding me!”  He roared his disapproval.  “Very helpful, squid!”</p><p>He threw his full strength into another question - Nightfall knew she was not going to hold him much longer.  “Why were the gith chasing that ship?”</p><p>Her bonds melted to nothing in the fire of his fury as he was once again denied.  It was too late, however, already visions filled his mind of tunnels reaching out their fingers into the ground, brine sliding into every crevice, spreading corruption like deadly roots.  Above all, the sky split, blackness overtaking the shine of the stars, and nautiloids poured from the void in a terrifying armada of spine and tentacle.</p><p>The pictures went dark, extinguished like a candle before the wind.</p><p>Ragzlin’s face blanked at the sudden loss of communication.  “What in the . . . “</p><p>The corpse collapsed, a puppet with its string severed.</p><p>“No.  <em> No!  I’m not done!”  </em> He screamed his frustration out into the ring of followers, and they cowered in the face of his rage.<em>  “</em>Riddles, all of it!  And nothing to show for the trouble but rotting squid meat!”  </p><p>The hobgoblin noticed Nightfall’s gaze upon him and reined in his temper, seeking to show his control of the power he had been given.  “Hmph.  The damned drow was right.  Can’t let her get all the glory.”  He pointed at the four regally.  “Seems I ain’t done with you.  Report to the drow - Minthara’s the name.  She’s mounting an attack on that blasted grove.  Tell her you’ll join her.”</p><p><em> I think we’re done with you, Dror Ragzlin.  You can tell her yourself in the Afterlife.  </em>Aloud, she scoffed.  “Can’t you do your own dirty work?”  Her voice carried, and the circle of his followers turned their heads as one, disbelieving that any would have the nerve to question the hobgoblin’s direct command.</p><p>Ragzlin’s voice lowered, a growl of threat overcoming his confident mien.  “Say that again?  ‘Cause I know I didn’t just hear you refuse the Absolute.”</p><p>“You heard me.”  Nightfall raised her chin, feeling all eyes upon her.  “You can tell Minthara of your failure yourself, hobgoblin - when you join her in death.”</p><p>In that moment, Ragzlin knew who had undermined his spell - and realized that their plans were crumbling around them.  “<em>Crush them!” </em></p><p>Pandemonium exploded.  Wyll summoned a thick fog which dropped over Ragzlin’s followers while blinding white missiles flew out of Gale’s hands.  Two of them hammered the war drums, shattering them into ash and shards.  The final one struck the first of the new priests, knocking the breath from him.</p><p>They had no time to lose.  Already the familiar flash of gold Blessed the assembly, and Ragzlin called power into his control to bring these invaders a fast and honorless death.</p><p>Astarion slid into the fog, and the hurt priest screamed in terror.  The sound retreated into a whimper, and then went silent.  In those few moments, Nightfall called to her spider, feeling its heavy body slip around her own.  Her fangs ripped into one of the human initiates, tearing out its throat.  The other she webbed to the ground.</p><p>Three fireballs ripped from Wyll’s hands into a priest on the far side of the room who had managed to slip from the mist.  He did not even have time to scream - the fireballs caught so quickly and burned so hot that he simply ceased to be, a charred skeleton fell to the ground, its skull wobbling back and forth as it hit the flagstones.  Gold light flooded over Wyll’s skin, but he struggled to maintain his focus on the fog while attacking.</p><p>Nightfall jumped with all her strength directly at Dror Ragslin as another priest was brought down by a string of arcane fire.  Astarion saw her fly through the air, as he sunk his blade into a goblin ranger.  It managed to put a knife into him and jump back, just as the fog cloud dropped.</p><p>Astarion jerked around to look at Wyll, ducking to avoid another slice with the goblin’s weapon.  The Blade had been struck with an arrow, knocking him to the side.  The gold glow lit around him in response, and a streak of fire barreled from him into the other ranger.  The goblin had gained the top of the staircase, and she burned brightly at its height.</p><p>He saw Nightfall taking damage from the war chief; she had sunk as much poison into him as she could, but her strength was flagging.  The jaws of the spider twinkled with a heal spell.</p><p><em> She will not hold out.  </em>He yanked out his bow and fired at his attacker who had downed a healing potion while his focus was elsewhere.  It took the small armored creature in its throat, pushing it back into the pit.  He watched as the spider-that-was-Nightfall jumped over the fray.  She stood dangerously close to the edge of the pit, dropping the guise of the spider and returning to frail half-elf form.</p><p>Ragzlin bellowed and took after her, his huge thorned mace waving as he charged at her.  The last two initiates had been felled by Gale and Wyll, but the hobgoblin had not been brought down.</p><p>Nightfall watched the blow come down at her head, but at the last moment, she pulled the spirit of the bear around her and batted it away with a huge paw.  She used the force to spin herself around and plow both Ragzlin and herself into the pit.  </p><p>Silence reigned as the three companions rushed out to peer into the blackness, just as she appeared behind them.  She grinned and tapped Astarion on the shoulder.  He spun around, caught directly in the middle of pulling her insane personage into his arms and throttling her lovely throat.</p><p>“Godsdammit, woman!  What in the blasted Hells . . . ?”</p><p>“Well, the bear did take a pretty big hit down there, even though she came down on the hobgoblin . . . ”</p><p>Gale’s voice cut through.  “ . . . And if I am not mistaken, your lovely blue necklace is charmed.”</p><p>Her eyes sparkled in triumph.  “You are not - I might have slipped the thing from the neck of a certain drow priestess before I returned her body to the dark - who knew she would have a Misty Step amulet awaiting just such an occasion?”</p><p>Wyll clapped her on the back.  “Well, you scared me to death, but I can’t fault you for making such a grand escape from the gobbie pits!  What a finish!”</p><p>Astarion just shut his eyes for a moment, for the second time in a day wondering how in Shar’s name he was going to survive his obsession with someone so clearly enamored with the adrenaline rush of potential destruction.</p><p>“I also snagged us something else.”  Her eyes sparkled, and she held up a heavy key.  “Looks like our hobgoblin friend has a treasure room!”</p><p>With a wide smile, Wyll pointed behind the dais, on the next level.  “I saw it up there, as my lady requires.”</p><p>The exhausted group trekked up the stairs, as Gale mused aloud.  “A grand necromantic spectacle staged at the behest of a newfangled god to track down . . . us.  Can’t quite see which of these two wins out:  to be honoured or to be horrified.”</p><p>Nightfall laughed, darkly.  “Can’t say I’m thrilled to be a god’s pet project.  The real question is why are they looking for us?”</p><p>“Several guesses spring to mind, all equally plausible and implausible at once.  Fact is, we’re being hunted, but at least we have the hunters at a disadvantage:  even here, in the lion’s den, they don’t recognize us as their prey.”</p><p>Wyll raised his hands for quiet.  “My friends, let's take a moment to celebrate what we have accomplished, yes?  All three leaders dead - despite their infection with the same tadpole powers we have.”  They entered the treasure area, clearly a mix of raid finds and old temple artifacts.  “A magnificent showing.  The bards will carry our praises across Faerun - hells, across all of Toril.  And I’ll be leading the songs!”</p><p>Nightfall handed a necklace to Gale after a quiet conversation between the two of them.  He held it to his chest gratefully, and magic prickled over Astarion’s skin.  Something within him felt brittle as she followed the gift with a hug.  <em> All of this, and the damned wizard receives the reward?   </em></p><p>The moment did not allow him time to absorb the situation, but he knew the wizard was the safer choice.  Wyll called from the doorway.  “Now, let’s spring Halsin free too, see if he can cure us of these bugs.  The goblins have to have him penned up <em> somewhere</em>.”</p><p>“There was a pair of ladders leading from the priestess’s library area into the next room.  It was well-guarded.”  Astarion strived to keep his disappointment from his tone, but Nightfall still gave him a strange look.</p><p>Astarion’s hunch had been absolutely correct.  The door protected the worg pens, and they entered as the shriek of a goblin was cut off by a furious growl.</p><p>A huge bear was backlit by several brightly burning braziers.  Nightfall let out a wide smile.</p><p>The bear tipped its head to the side curiously, and then melted away into the form of a man in the outfit of the grove.</p><p>He gave them all a welcoming smile and a hearty laugh.  <em> Wait, this bear of a man is an elf?  </em>“Pardon the viscera.  One should cherish nature’s bounty - but goblin guts are quite far down the list.”  His eyes fell to the smiling half-elf woman.  “You did not fear the bear, even without knowing if it would savage you?  A true friend of nature - or perhaps a lunatic.”  </p><p>Astarion snorted - Gale and Wyll actually laughed aloud.  </p><p>Humor tickled Halsin’s eyes.  “Either way, I owe thanks.  I am the druid Halsin.”</p><p>“You’re Master Halsin?  First Druid of the Emerald Grove?”  Nightfall breathed out heavily, her hopes confirmed.  “Praise Sylvanas for saving you.”  She pulled the pouch from her waist and began rummaging through it, her fingers urgent.</p><p>“It is you who should be praised, sister - you are Sylvanus’s instrument.  And please, just Halsin.  I will not demand honorifics from my saviour.”  His face was grateful, but very grave.</p><p>Nightfall spoke while she pulled out two yellowed letters.  “I’ve been to the Emerald Grove.  It’s in grave danger, it sorrows me to say.”</p><p>“I am aware.  I foolishly left it vulnerable to this rabble.  There’s work to be done.”  Halsin nodded knowingly.</p><p>“More than you realize, brother.”  She handed the notes to him, the damning evidence of Kahga’s betrayal.  “The Rite of Thorns has been initiated, and Kahga plots to give the grove over to shadow.”</p><p>The druid scanned the letter, his eyes pained.  He shook his head, and looked closely at Nightfall.  “ . . . Hrm.  That look in your eyes - I’ve seen it before.  Are you feeling alright?”</p><p>“That is why we sought the grove.  I’m infected with a mind flayer tadpole as are my companions.  We need to get rid of them with all haste.”</p><p>“I see.  It’s spreading then.  You suffer from the very same blight I came here to investigate.  I thought all the afflicted worked together.  Clearly, I was wrong.”  His eyes slid over the group.  “No visible signs of ceremorphosis.  Just like the others.  The good news - you have time.  The bad news - I don’t know how much.  I will do my best to help you, but before that, there’s work to do - blood to spill, sister.”</p><p>Nightfall shook her head.  “Hasn’t enough blood been spilled already?”</p><p>“I cannot allow these butchers to threaten my grove.  The natural order must be protected.  Rare is the beast that survives decapitation.  Help me eliminate the camp’s leaders.  They are the ones holding these parasites together.  Remove them, and nature will cure itself.”</p><p>Her eyes lit again.  “I already killed the goblin leadership, brother.”</p><p>“You did . . . ?”  Both his eyebrows rose.  “Nature’s found a most furious defender in you.  Very well.  Return to the grove.  I make my way there with immediacy - then we can see about this parasite of yours.”</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>After a short rest to keep them from falling down where they stood, they moved back to the kennel entrance.  On the way back to the priestess’s hall where the ladder to the rafters waited, they heard a familiar voice that had followed its fortune from the grove as well.</p><p>With a deep sigh, Nightfall waved the men to remain for a moment, and she followed the unmistakable voice.  It led her to a small aviary, where a tiny goblin woman had locked a man in bard’s cloth into a large goblin cage.  </p><p>She waved a finger at Nightfall, and the man turned toward the druid in interest.  She had seen him bothering the druid keepers, and heard him doing so despite her best efforts, in the heart of the Druid Grove.  “Don’t go botherin’ my pigeon!  He’s <em> mine.” </em></p><p>She smiled at the little woman in approval.  “Does your bird have a name?”</p><p>Her eyebrows knitted.  “Erm . . . <em> Pidge.” </em></p><p>“I see.  Do you have plans for this pigeon?”</p><p>She nodded cheerfully, her eye straying back to her captive.  “Keep him safe.  Listen to him coo.  Till I gets hungry or some such.  What’s it to ya?”  She gave the suspicious visitor a scowl, her hands on the waist of her fur dress.</p><p>“I was admiring him.  I’d like one of my own.”</p><p>“Well then go find one.  This one’s mine.”  Her voice was final, but the brand of the Absolute would not be ignored.</p><p>Nightfall called on the power of the tadpole, feeling it stretch its power out to the goblin.  “Set him free.”</p><p>Her craggy face turning to a smile, she handed the druid her key over and left the room.</p><p>“Ha-HA!  Look at this - I’m quite saved!  I guarantee the story of your daring rescue of my person will live on for eons!”</p><p>Nightfall turned the key in the lock.  “I’m not looking for that sort of attention.”</p><p>“I’ll write an anonymous account of your heroism, then!  None will know your name, yet your doings will live on!”  Released from the cage, he bowed deeply.  “Volothamp Geddarn, realm-renowned author, auteur, and tastemaker, at your service.  We mustn’t tarry, but I’d hate for our acquaintance to end here.  Please - won’t you meet me, once we’ve both slipped the goblin yoke?”</p><p>She closed her eyes, for a moment too mentally exhausted to deal with him.  Still, he had been through a harrowing incident.  “A fine mess you’ve landed yourself in.  How’d you get caught?”</p><p>“Why, by design, my friend.  How better to learn the ways of a people than to live among them?”  She raised her eyebrows.  <em> He came here to be captured? </em> “I daresay the experiment has proven most fruitful, too.  I’ll be happy to share my findings . . . once we’ve found somewhere safe to parlay.”</p><p>“How did you intend to escape exactly?”</p><p>“An invisibility potion, my friend.  A bit less refined than your mendacious methods, but by gods, it’ll do the trick!”</p><p>She nodded, far past arguing.  “Go to my camp.  We’ll talk there, once we’re both safe.”</p><p>“Smashing!  Soon, my friend - soon we can share a flagon of something liquid and a tale of derring do!  I’ll slip away when the coast is clear.  See you soon, my friend!  I simply can’t wait to pick your brain!”</p><p>She returned to her companions, waving their questions away and starting up the ladder.</p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>Finally back in camp, Nightfall collapsed onto her bedroll, eyes closed, arm over her face.  </p><p>After an indeterminate passage of time, Wyll slipped over to sit next to her.  “Hey, chief.”</p><p>She looked over at him and sat up, pouring herself some of the wine she had brought over earlier.  “We really worked well together today.”</p><p>He nodded, but it was clear he had something else on his mind.  Reading his face, she handed him the bottle, and he took a huge swig of wine.  “You ever want something so bad, you’d stop at nothing to get it?”</p><p>She nodded and took a drink from her cup.  “Of course.  Haven’t we all?"</p><p>“Then I reckon you’ll understand.”  He took another drink and finally came clean.</p><p>“I told you how Spike torched a village and yanked out my eye.  I vowed to the Hells and Heavens that I’d make him pay, but . . . ” anger was writ large in his tone, “ . . . that wasn’t the whole story.  A woman rose from the town’s ashes.  She called herself Mizora.  My soul shivered as soon as her lips touched my ears.  She promised I’d have my revenge.  Mizora would forge me into a hero.  I’d have the power to slay my every enemy, save their every victim.  All in exchange for my endless devotion.”</p><p>He gave a wry, self-deprecating smile.  “She only revealed her true form after I’d said ‘yes.’  A cambion - <em> half human, half devil. </em>  She gave me a new eye - a sending stone to connect us, for calling on me whenever she so wished.  Raphael, Mizora - the devils’ game has but one end.  My soul is now hers.  In this life and beyond.”</p><p><em> Finally he gives me the truth. </em>  She listened quietly while the warlock unloaded, telling her about his powers and his success in battle, the heroics he had performed.</p><p>He shook his head at the end of it, the alcohol soothing his wrath.  “I don’t know what the drow want with Mizora.  But she promised to break our bond if I save her.  I free her, and she frees me.”</p><p>“Seems It’s time we find Mizora and end this pact.”</p><p>His face was a study in relief and gratitude.  “Thank you.  Your loyalty means more than the whole of the realm’s riches.  Onward then, and may we be free from the devils that might bind us . . . and the devils that already do.”</p><p>Clearing the air with Wyll reminded Nightfall that she likely had another conversation awaiting her.  She rose - sooner was better than later, she guessed - who knew what would happen tomorrow when they spoke with Halsin?</p><p>Astarion heaved a sigh, staring up at the clouds scudding their way over the moon.  She sat down next to him and looked up at the night sky with him.  Silence hung around them like invisible webs, companionable but expectant. </p><p>Finally he spoke, his voice resigned.  “I suppose you want to know about Cazador.”</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”</p><p>He laughed darkly.  “I don’t want to say a damned thing, but that won’t do anyone any good.”</p><p>She waited for him to continue - that she always let him take things at his own pace was part of why he struggled so much to control their interactions.  <em> It’s difficult to fight against someone who doesn’t make demands. </em></p><p>He spoke as though his undeath was a story he told of someone else - it would be too hard to verbalize it if he had to own it too.</p><p>“Cazador Szarr is a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate - the patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power.  Not political power or military power - I mean power over people.”  He mimed puppetry as he had before.  “The power to control them completely.  He turned me nearly two hundred years ago.  I became his spawn, and he became my tormentor.”</p><p>“Tormentor?  What did he do?”  She asked, but she feared to hear the response.</p><p>“He had me go out into Baldur’s Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find.  It was a fun little ritual of his.  I’d bring them back, and he’d ask if I wanted to dine with him.”  <em> Oh, gods. </em> “If I said yes, he’d serve me a dead putrid rat.  Of course, if I said no, he’d have me flayed.  Hard to say which was worse.”  He examined his nails, because concentrating on real things kept the memories from becoming more than visions.</p><p>He stopped speaking, and she feared he was deep in the chaotic blackness within.  <em> Keep him talking.  </em>“How were you turned?  Did he attack you?”</p><p>“Not him, no.  A gang of thugs attacked me, angry about a ruling that I’d handed down as magistrate.  They beat me to death’s door when Cazador appeared.”  A soul searing smile ghosted across his face.  “He chased them off and offered to save me.  To give me eternal life.  Given that my choices were ‘eternal life’ or ‘bleed to death on the street,’ I took him up on the offer.”  His eyes focused back on her face, her changeable eyes reflected blue evening sky and torch flame.  “It was only afterwards I realized just how long ‘eternity’ could be.”</p><p>Her jaw was clenched, but her voice was calm and smooth, like water on a stone.  “You’ve been a slave ever since?”</p><p>He grimaced, and his teeth gleamed.  “A vampire’s spawn is less than a slave.  They’re a puppet.  We have no choice but to follow our master’s commands.”  He turned from her to look toward the lake.  “They speak and our bodies react.  It’s all part of the deal.”</p><p>She felt sick, remembering how it had felt to control Ragzlin for that short amount of time, the helpless anger that had spilled into her when he could not resist her command.  <em> Two centuries, with no hope in sight.  Sylvanas, heal him, protect him from further burden. </em>  </p><p>His face was expressionless, but his eyes screamed out of it, a silent nightmare.  “Sometimes he’d order us to submit to torture.  Sometimes he’d have us torture ourselves.  Whatever his weathervane mood settled on.”</p><p>“That sounds terrible.  I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“Thank you, but this isn’t about sympathy.  It’s about knowing what we might be up against.”  It was clear that the story was wrung from him, and she could understand why he resisted opening up to anyone.  “The mind flayers aren’t the only monsters out there, and they might not be the only ones hunting us.”  He looked at her, serious as death.  “All I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open and watch out for anything lurking in the shadows.”</p><p><em> And when we are cured, I will seek where those shadows hide and burn them out with flame and righteous fury.  I will not allow you to be taken again.  </em>The vow sunk into her bones; she sensed it like her connection to Sylvanas himself.  “You keep me safe, and I’ll do the same.”</p><p>“What more could I ask?”  His voice lightened into the familiar teasing tone of the careless noble.  Even though she had not asked him to share, she could tell he needed to feel like she had.  “Now is that all?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Dreams 3: In the Middle Place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The third tadpole dream.</p><p>The player enters the dream in Bold Letters.</p><p>Watch out for the Jabberwocky, my Friends, and if you get that reference, give yourself five points.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and WotC.</p><p>This is old hat for you, dear Reader, you already know why there's no music here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>the link is strengthened     it has been reinforced     the ties that bind reach out     the mirror is a bridge, but it is not horizontal     it pulls stronger one way     we dream together, the barrier thin, barely surface tension     we are Alice, come through the looking glass</p><p>
  <em> ~ You’re always a pleasure to watch. ~ </em>
</p><p> The <b>The</b> dream <b>dream </b> is <b>is</b> back <b> back</b> again <b>again</b>     <b>  </b> You <b>You </b> open <b>open your eyes</b></p><p>His face is kind, his curls are bright in the sun.  “Every day you become stronger.  Every night you grow.”</p><p>the grass cushions you <b>and you stare at the sky</b>     <b>he watches me, </b> so beautiful  just the way he would <b>if he were real     I sit up, </b> but I have to <b>push against gravity</b><b><em>, </em> </b> <b>is there even gravity in dreams?    </b></p><p>“But you deserve even more.” </p><p>He is so close, so clear, so real.  Long fingers move against his thigh, lean, strong . . . you think of them touching you, you feel him thinking it too. </p><p>“Let me help you.”  His sharp teeth flash white, he is dangerous, you feel it, but part of you does not care.  Part of you loves it.</p><p>“I’m not <b>doing anything until you tell me who you are.”  </b></p><p><b>I can’t forget that these dreams </b> are not really Him.  <b>He dreams of Cazador.  </b> <em> I wonder if </em> <b> <em>he dreams of pain or of pleasure?  </em> </b> <em> Which would </em> <b> <em>be worse, he says, the rat or the flaying?  </em> </b> <b> <em>That’s easy - the rat . . . the flaying </em> </b> <em> will heal </em> <b> <em>eventually, and those scars are only on the outside.</em> </b></p><p>My tongue feels strange, but <b>I run it over my </b> teeth, and I can feel the <b>flaws in them, familiar.  </b> My hands are <b>my hands.  But that is strange, I should not see </b> the scar from <b>my car accident. </b>  This is some <b>crazy dream, right?</b></p><p>His words are simple.  “I’m yours.  I’m the key to fulfilling your destiny.”</p><p>“Destiny is a <b>big word.  Care to narrow it down?”  </b> <b> <em>And guess what, hot stuff, I </em> </b> <em> don’t believe in </em> <b> <em>destiny, so there.  Bootstraps, and all that.</em> </b></p><p>“The realms will tremble with the change you bring.  A glorious beautiful renewal.”  </p><p><b>My head hurts, </b> like the parasite is really there, <b>like it is taking something important.  </b></p><p><b>“Help me.  </b> This parasite is <b>eating me alive.”</b></p><p>“I knew you were the right choice.”  Those long fingers touch my face, and he leans into me.</p><p><b>He whispers into my ear, his breath cool, </b> shivers run through <b>me, but it isn’t a chill, not this time.</b></p><p>“Let me show you what’s to come.”  He pulls back and someone else is there, across the grass on the path.</p><p><b>It’s an armored</b> man, a soldier, he has a sword.  So he means to <b> kill me, or maybe kill Him?  Holy actual fuck.  </b> The Him that isn’t Him.  <b>Oh hey, i’m wearing </b> armor?  <b>A dagger is in my hand, and when he comes for me, I don’t hesitate, I drive it into his stomach, anger and rage </b> and defense of Him.  <b>The knight wears a Flame sigil on the elbow </b> of his armor, <b>but I don’t care - if I have to defend myself </b> then that is what I <b>will do.</b></p><p>
  <b>He falls to the ground, and I realize there is a wall to this garden. </b>
</p><p>“Your enemies will fall.  The world will burn.”  The city is below, on the plain, burning, people scream.  He comes to stand at my side, wind that scents of smoke ruffles my hair.</p><p><b>that one</b> bit of hair, <b>always so flyaway     had I known I </b> would be meeting him again <b> perhaps I would have been prepared     </b> still he never seems <b>to care or to notice that I wear a different face, but this one </b> is mine, I can <b>see my nose     </b> then again <b>he’s wearing someone else’s face, </b>the creep</p><p>“You’ll have everything you could ever desire.”  He reaches out and takes my hand, and it fits mine perfectly.  </p><p>He raises it with his and <b>turns me to face him,</b> matching <b> his fingers</b> to mine, <b>then links fingers with me, </b>eyes soft.</p><p>I <b>I </b> have <b>have </b> to <b>to </b> remember <b>remember     it </b> it <b>isn’t </b> isn’t <b>him</b> him</p><p>Who is this?  Why can I hear you saying my words?  <b>(</b><b><em>what is that supposed to mean?     You’re me, you lunatic avatar game thing)     </em> </b> you were with me last time     <b> <em>(I’m with you all the time     unless your ass is unplugged     what the fuck is this)</em> </b></p><p>Are you a goddess     don't be angry     you speak very     strange</p><p>
  <b> <em>(concentrate on home     this is getting fucking terrifying     I’m outtie, yo)</em> </b>
</p><p>fight to wake up     wake up     wake</p><p>up</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Looks like we'll be wrapping this thing up with smut in chapter 21, which ties directly to Part 2.  </p><p>Rainore the Ranger joins us for this chapter, Sylvanas, druids . . . ya'll get it.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to Larian and WotC.  </p><p>Music for throwing everything in a pile and lighting it on fire?  I'm going with "Broken" by Seether - featuring Amy Lee, courtesy of Spotify.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dreams were becoming divisive among the group, and now that Astarion knew who showed up in hers, it changed the entire situation . . . for the worse. </p><p>
  <em> Sylvanas, preserve me from myself.  </em>
</p><p>Of course, Wyll had to bring it up.  "The nights have been restless, but you don't look the worse for wear.  Holding steady?" </p><p>She heard a cough behind her.  <em> Stuff it, Astarion.  </em></p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it.”  Wyll raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised that Rainore refused to discuss her dream outright.  She had consistently been the most open of the group.  </p><p>Shadowheart had no such interest in catering to her privacy.  "It happened to you again, didn't it?  Another dream." </p><p>Rain let out an exasperated huff.  "My dreams are personal.”</p><p>“The lure of something more.  More pleasure, more power.”  Regret colored Wyll’s words.  “I know the temptation only too well.  A kiss, a touch, a victory.  Minor gifts, with bigger ones always to come.”</p><p>She gave him a supportive nod, but only responded again, “I’m not interested in sharing." </p><p>Astarion’s curiosity was alerted as well - she was being uncharacteristically closed-mouthed.  He turned carefully neutral eyes their way.  Predictably, Shadowheart continued digging.  "Don't be coy - it's already shared.  You killed and conquered, then bedded your paramour."  </p><p><em> Oh, did you now?  </em> Rain’s face flamed red as her reticence became crystal clear.  She looked longingly at the woods.  This time the wicked smile made its way out.  <em> Please, by all means, try to run . . .  </em></p><p>“It was the same for me.”  Shadowheart continued pouring out the very last things Rain wanted to share.  “I led an army, spilled a world full of blood, all for his embrace.  I still feel the warmth of his touch.  And the screams of those I slaughtered for him.”  </p><p>Thankfully, Wyll's attention shifted to Shadowheart.  “My advice?  When a tempting stranger offers you sweets, deny them.  There's no cure for the poison inside." </p><p>She dropped Astarion a speaking glance.  <em> Hear that?   </em></p><p>Restrained laughter lit his eyes - he was quite enjoying himself.  <em> Arse.</em>  She had begun to turn back to the others when Shadowheart dropped a damned boulder.  “Did you want it?  What you saw?”</p><p>
  <em> Oh, rutting Hells, are you joking?   </em>
</p><p>Red-lit eyes pinned her to the spot.  That one sardonic eyebrow lifted.  <em> Well? </em></p><p>She tore her gaze back to Shadowheart, feeling like every emotion in her head was exposed like a badly broken bone.  A string of responses flew through her head that would turn the discussion away . . . but they just made the truth seem easier.</p><p>“I .  .  . did.”  Her voice was quiet.  “I wanted it all.”  She did not look at him.</p><p>Shadowheart nodded.  "Me too.  Whoever's doing this knows me well." </p><p>Rainore felt like she might have swallowed an entire bucket of moths - still, thankfully, Shadowheart had broken the moment.  "Did your visitor ask for something in return?" </p><p>"Nothing, so far."  The priestess stressed the last.</p><p>A shiver slid up her nape - Astarion had come over to join in this blasted dungpile of a conversation, standing just behind her shoulder, a touch too close.   </p><p>"I couldn't <em> help </em> but eavesdrop on you.  It seems we all had . . . interesting <em> dreams</em>.”  His proximity made his words intimate, made it impossible not to be aware of him.  He paused for effect, then continued blandly.  “Since we started using our condition to influence others, I've been hearing things at night.  And now these dreams?  They have to be connected." </p><p>Gale exited his tent.  "Those visions of yours, Shadowheart, they aren't dreams.  They're projections.  <em> Illithid </em> ones.  The tadpoles give us the power to bend others' wills, but using that power clearly comes at a price.  Are we willing to pay it?" </p><p>She looked pensive at his comment.  "Perhaps it's time we stopped indulging in the more useful aspects of these parasites."</p><p>"Agreed.”  Wyll had clearly been thinking to back away from the power already.  <em> Unsurprising, really.  </em>“Enough with the mind-twiddling.  I'm not keen on traveling wherever these dreams lead us." </p><p>Astarion took a step forward, his interest in the outcome suddenly invested.  "I said they were connected.  I didn't say we should stop.  Let's not throw away that power over some bad dreams." </p><p>"The parasites <em> have </em> proved useful.”  Rain knew the others would object, but it was true - the power had allowed them to exit some very delicate situations without killing anyone.  “It'd be foolish of us to just ignore that advantage." </p><p>"You can put your own sanity at risk then.  I want an end to these dreams."  Shadowheart narrowed her eyes, and she could feel glares from the other two.</p><p>Rain threw up her hands and walked toward the fire - realizing in hindsight that she should have just done so in the first place.   </p><p>*     *     *     *     *</p><p>They returned to the Grove to find normalcy restored, more or less.  Kagha was allowed to remain, but pulled down to the level of the newest initiate.  News of her plans to ensnare her brothers and sisters spread through the enclave, and her followers quickly recanted.  They retained their distrust of strangers, but they would not longer look to isolate the their circle from the world.</p><p>Halsin asked for one night of rest and calm before they worked through his findings on the tadpoles - they weren't thrilled, but the group agreed.  He was correct that they all were exhausted, and emotions were high.  It was quite lovely to be get a tiny reprieve from worry.</p><p>The tieflings were moving on to Baldur’s Gate, expressing both fear and excitement about reaching the city.  She worried for them, wishing that she were in a position to guard their way.  At least they had a send off - the entire group descended upon the companions' campsite with drink and laughter and song.  Their new addition had joined the camp just in time for the celebration - Volo came through on his promise and wrote a (surprisingly) lovely ballad in their honor.  </p><p>Indeed, everything was resolved that could be in the short term.  Everything, that is, but for the fever of amorousness that overtook her companions at the gathering.  </p><p>Shadowheart slipped in that she had designs for the evening, and they included Rainore.  She was clearly upset when Rain declined.  Lae'zel praised her mettle before turning her down for a tryst that Rain didn’t request.  Wyll chose tonight, the evening after he finally came clean about his relationship with a cambion, to inform her of his regard.  Even Gale, who she had believed was just a dear friend, raised an entreaty that ended up feeling . . . off.  Hadn't he just told her about his heartbreak over Mystra?  She swore she was surrounded by the humanoid equivalents of volatile potions stored in fragile containers - one wrong move, and everybody lost. </p><p><em>I am seriously considering taking a long walk, covering my tracks, and sleeping out in the woods - on the bare ground if necessary.</em> <em> I could really use some space.</em></p><p>Then again, she highly doubted her ability to evade a supernaturally sensitive creature of the night, even one that wandered around in sunlight and promised good behavior.  The situation with that twice-cursed vampire started sliding off the cliff with her offering to Loviatar, but it had hit the ground and burst into flames this morning.</p><p>If she had understood exactly what the Maiden of Pain intended, she would have declined and told Astarion to shove off.  Putting him into a situation where he was immersed in the smell of blood was cruel, and she felt terrible.  As it was, her lack of worldliness led to the man lying dead on the floor, and of course, Astarion refused to discuss it.</p><p>After this morning, though, she couldn’t even meet his eyes, and she had avoided him the entire day.</p><p>Unaware that her mind spun around him like flotsam in a whirlpool, Astarion found himself staring at Rainore like some lovesick squire.</p><p>He was in a bad way.  </p><p>Something had changed when she took the blows from the Maiden of Pain, when she had fallen to her knees and met his eyes with fury and heat.  It was a decadent treat for both elf and monster, and he swore the scent of her blood remained on his armor, his hands, soaked into his skin.  It was maddening - a spike of Hunger hit him every time he caught it, yet he would not have it fade.  He had been blood-struck after tasting her - his lethargy slipped away to the rush of power.  His senses had so sharpened that he swore he could hear her blood move, see every tendril of her hair. <em> Gods, her taste was heaven strung with rubies.  </em></p><p>Even worse, his regard grew apace with his lusts, and somehow he lost all perspective.  How anyone could ignore her brazenness, her heedless daring, he could not say - volunteering to face Gut, taunting a murderous drow priestess, then throwing herself into a goblin pit.  Had her spell not gone off perfectly, she would have killed herself with her bravado.</p><p>Then she had been outed after submitting to his dream self - and bluntly confirmed wanting the reality of what she had been offered.  At that point, his rationality burned to ash.</p><p><em>It's humiliating, is what it is.  400 years of seduction, an unblemished record of tempting away the most lovely of creatures, a flawless showing of willpower and control.  Finally felled in my old age by my desire for a . . . </em>wood elf<em> of all things.  </em></p><p>He wrinkled his nose in distaste and took another drink.  <em> Worshippers of trees and dirt.   </em></p><p>
  <em> You're dead - you're not old, you're well-preserved.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Very droll.  I see we're going for the throat this evening.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> At least someone gets to, since you've lost your touch.  </em>
</p><p>His mood was sour, nothing that the bottle of red wine would help - nor the other bottles that lay empty and discarded behind him.  His hungers stirred, angry and denied.  She verbally sparred with him at every opportunity, drawing out both him and his monster, yet tonight she stayed away.  It appeared that his allure had gone straight to the hells, along with whatever served as his peace of mind. </p><p>He missed getting black-out drunk, mortals didn't appreciate it nearly enough. </p><p><em> Well, as long as I'm already damned, </em> he mused, tipping his head in consideration of the leathers clinging to her backside, <em> that arse deserves an appreciative eye</em>.  The supple armor traced her form, revealing far more than it obscured.  </p><p>Her long carrot-red ponytail was high on her head but still brushed her shoulder.  He recalled twisting it round his hand, remembered how she had trembled.</p><p>Rain shared Shadowheart’s bottle of wine, taking a long swig without a glass.  The vintage was wasted on her, but opportunities to gain the trust of her prickly companion were beyond valuable.  For what must have been the 100th time, she felt his gaze whisper across her skin, lifting the hairs on her neck.  </p><p>She knew his eyes slid to her throat as she swallowed, and her fingers touched the place he had pierced her before.  No sign was left, but she swore it still marked her, deeper, in the muscle and sinew, silent but clarion, demanding she move straight to his side.  </p><p>She resisted, bowing to cowardice, milling about the camp while he stalked her movements.  </p><p>Yet cowardly she was, in part because of their former lives.  She disliked dealing with others.  She lived for the times she could escape into the woods, often removing her shoes to feel the soil under her feet, swimming in living streams, sleeping under the stars.  In comparison, Astarion disliked being stuck out here in nature.  He was a creature of the city, his nights spent under bright lanterns, surrounded by wealth.  If everything settled in its best possible end, how would they ever find a way to meet in the middle?</p><p>The situation was just too complicated.  He carried centuries of rage, he was inclined to take revenge, to lack compassion.  He was dead, for Sylvanas’s sake - functionally immortal - she was frustratingly inexperienced with her youth barely behind her. </p><p>Still.  His elegant loveliness had turned her idiot head.  She swore tonight his curls were more artful, his lashes darker, the sheen of his armor more fine.  She had caught him mid-shot with his bow yesterday, and her heart had nearly stopped.  The sheer beauty of him in motion, muscles taut, eye sharp, was the sweetest liquor to a hunter like herself - a dagger of finesse and brutal efficiency. </p><p>
  <em> I can't avoid him all night, but my judgment is surely compromised.  What exactly am I considering here?  </em>
</p><p>She risked a passing glance in his direction, ensuring her backlit silhouette would screen her attention.  She swore she caught an over-casual head turn slipping away from her as she swept her eyes toward him.  Even in that quick glance, the subtle red of his eyes and the way the candlelight gilded his hair burned into her eyelids. </p><p>Her train of thought wandered away, and she realized her attention had drifted from Shadowheart yet again.  She bade her a good evening, grateful that the half-elf had been circumspect in her interest, at least.  Such close living arrangements bred ideas of intimacy like rabbits in spring.  </p><p>The priestess’s dark eyes followed Rain when she left.  It was clear that she found Rainore fascinating, but lacked any graces to win her.  <em> Well at least I’m just the oldest fool and not the most pathetic . . . that's definitely Shadowheart</em>.  </p><p>He heard Gale muttering and suppressed a feral smile.  She’d turned down the smooth-talking wizard earlier, and he’d wandered to his tent, pulled out a stashed wine bottle, and sat down to drink off the disappointment.  It was a delightful victory - after Gale had embraced her in the temple, he had been half convinced that the wizard's desire was mutual.  </p><p>Astarion's favored dagger spun wickedly through his fingers.  </p><p><em>This would have buried itself in the wizard's thick skull had he touched her</em> <em>- shame I can't kill him.  Keeping him just at the point of death, though . . . </em></p><p>A part of him claimed her after she consented to his bite.  He still held that moment in his mind - the firelight turned red hair to scarlet and brought roses to her cheeks as she slept.  </p><p><em> Enough. </em> He had never chased any of his lovers, man or woman, and he was not going to start now.  </p><p>Besides, he was thoroughly miffed that she was avoiding him.  <em> I didn’t press her for any information this morning.  I’m practically the injured party in the whole mess</em>.  At the very least, it was unfair that he was left out of his own romantic encounters.</p><p>
  <em> I'm unappreciated.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You're pouting.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I'm brooding, mysteriously, I might add.  And why shouldn't I pout?  I'm reduced to grooming in a gods forsaken camp bucket and still managed to look the dashing rogue for this irritating so-called party.  </em>
</p><p><em>Just look at her over there,</em> <em>carrying on with that blasted Halsin. </em></p><p>He took two more swigs from the nearly empty wine bottle and cast his gaze about for another.  A glint of green glass caught his eye from the scrub behind the tent.  Gale could be counted on to always have something stashed away - he pilfered it without incident. </p><p><em> I hate being ignored</em>. </p><p>He twisted out the cork with his smallest wrist dagger and took a long drink.  The tannins hit his tongue with a bitter shock, and he winced. </p><p>
  <em> Frankly, that seems appropriate for your current attitude - sour and lacking a proper corking.  </em>
</p><p>She laughed, her voice low, at something the druid said.  </p><p>If she was going to give herself to him in her dreams, he simply could not understand why she didn’t just come to him.  He had drunk enough wine to put down any normal elven man, so he could be honest.  Whatever she had dreamed obviously was nothing compared with what he would give her.</p><p>Gods<em>, it would be glorious. </em> He would mar those sleek hips with delicate bites, let rivulets of ruby blood slide down her thighs.  His teeth ached to penetrate secret places that would make her cry out with pain and need.  He imagined her blood staining his mouth while she shuddered with release beneath him, his name on her lips.  He wanted to drink so well and so deep that she lacked the strength to control how he took her.  </p><p>His hand trembled when he lowered the bottle. </p><p>He shivered at the memory of her resting so trustingly against him, a precious gift, warm and full of life.  He grimaced at the bitterness of the wine; it held nothing over the incomparable vintage he truly coveted.  One small taste, a goblet full at most, and he had nearly lost himself in crimson silk. </p><p><em> The ridiculous child lacks all self-preservation and has the luck of the devils</em>.</p><p>Fearless and carefree as a waterfall, she had never feared him.  Instead she had asked, so innocently, "Why didn't you just tell me?" as if centuries of vampirism were parlor conversation.</p><p>
  <em> Then again, once Cazador had me flayed in the parlor.  </em>
</p><p>The object of his obsession was restless.  She wanted everyone to just leave, to let her <em> think</em>.  She generally lacked any interest in companionship, and she definitely was not more desirous of it after the last few days.</p><p>Irritation finally won out as he grabbed his wine and stood, clearly intent on making a silent exit.  Her eyes fixed on him, on the shortness of his movements.  He slipped out toward the darkness at the edge of camp. </p><p>She might as well admit her weakness - in that moment she couldn't quite recall why she was hesitant.  She loved watching him move, sleek as a panther, the dark leathers drawing him into the night itself.  She followed on silent feet toward the edge of the water, allowing her eyes to travel over him at will.  The breeze caressed his curls, his lean height cut the darkness. </p><p>He stopped at the lake edge, moving to take a drink.  Instead, he froze for the barest moment, sensing her presence, then turned and met her gaze.  She drew in a sharp breath at the heat in his eyes.  </p><p>Darkest garnet met clear aquamarine, and a wisp of hair escaped to wend softly across her cheek - with the light of the camp behind her and intention in her eyes, she appeared some ancient flame spirit, untouched, unknowable.  <em> She came after all.   </em></p><p>"Good evening, 'Star."  She gave him a reckless grin, the one she wore when they hunted a quarry.  "You don't seem to be doing much celebrating." </p><p>Somehow, he could not maintain his usual reticence - for once, he dared to give a true impression, a small thing, but authentic.  "You know," he began without preamble, "I never pictured myself as a hero.  Never thought I'd be the one responsible for saving so many lives.  And now that I'm here . . . "</p><p>She nodded, wisely knowing what was coming, eyes sparkling with amused expectation. </p><p>"I hate it.  This is awful."  He pouted; prettily, he was sure.  </p><p>She shook her head at him and at his dramatic response.  "It's not that bad.  Think of all the goblins you killed." </p><p>He sniffed doubtfully, but he couldn't keep a wolfish smile from escaping.  "Well yes, that was fun."  She really had his measure.  </p><p>
  <em> I would give it to her in full tonight.  Send to the Hells all this waiting and talking.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It's about time - you've become so boring of late.  This one should have been ours weeks ago. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Shove off . . . She is not some wide-eyed young victim in Baldur's Gate.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Then what would you say she is?  </em>
</p><p>He fell then into his favorite game, but this time, deadly serious.  Feint and disengage, retreat and draw in - fall back into a trap where his victim had no retreat.  He had used it often for Cazador, but the maneuver was his.  </p><p>He let his expression fall into a pout again.  "Well still.  I would have liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine."  </p><p>With a quick sleight of hand and a tug, she pulled the bottle from his hand, tipping her head back, and taking a swig from the mouth of his bottle, casually intimate.  His eyes dipped to where her lips met the glass.  He wanted to taste them. </p><p>"See what I mean?  Awful."   </p><p>She looked pointedly over toward the pile of bottles by his tent.  Her silent contradiction was exactly as he would have predicted; her humor broke something brittle in his chest.  He waved his hands and played casual.  "All I want is a little fun.  Is that too much to ask?" </p><p>"Knowing you . . . " Rain paused dramatically, " . . . it probably is."  She took another drink of wine to cover her laughter, watching the barb fly to see where it would stick. </p><p>He finally gave in, fully charmed by her relentless humor, and grinned at her needling.  "Don't be so sour," he parroted her words back at her.  "I like a good time as much as anyone."  She didn't respond, just looked at him from shadowed eyes, backlit by the tieflings' lanterns.  "You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling.  Get a little closer, so to speak."  His eye contact darted like a dragonfly. </p><p>He felt her heart rate increase, thrumming like a captured bird, but her face remained neutral.  One ginger brow slipped up.  "Maybe."  She feigned a negotiating stance.  "If you say 'Please.'" </p><p>He barked out a true laugh.  "What?" </p><p>She narrowed her gaze.  "Say please." </p><p>Irresistible and surprising, seductive and daring, she demanded he invest, insisted that he risk something too.  The monster in his heart denied her - survival denied her. </p><p>But she had listened to him, treated him as a person, despite his condition.  She'd bled for him and risked Cazador's wrath.  She was teasing, but she looked for reassurance.  He let his voice turn dark with the tiniest touch of pleading.  "Please."  </p><p>His eyes bored into hers so intently that a flush climbed into her cheeks - this entire encounter floated on pure bravado.  "Good boy.  We'll get together tonight."  </p><p>His need twisted within him, a tiny hopeful flame lit somewhere in his head, stolen blood flooded him in a wave.  It was all he could do to maintain focus and not just pull her into him, observers be damned.  It was only the thinnest cognition of how dangerous it was to be identified as a vampire's lover that stayed his hand. </p><p>Instead he forced himself to respond teasingly.  "Cheeky pup.  I'll see you later." </p><p>She winked, then handed him back the wine bottle she had emptied.  Eyes deep, she sauntered across the camp to speak to that well-oiled marionette, Volo.  </p><p>She knew he watched.  <em> Little minx.  </em>Astarion took the opportunity to enjoy the show.  </p><p>Severing his desire from blood-taking seemed impossible, but after centuries of coercion, he would be damned if he denied himself sex of his own volition with a person who consented . . . nay, accepted him:  curse, monster, and all. </p><p><em> Mine.  Soon.  Shar save her, for I will not. </em> </p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Dégustation de Vins  (Wine Tasting)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Astarion smut, rogue Liss takes over to end Part One.</p><p>Prologue to Part 2 is posted.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to Larian for the short time we got Astarion's romance scene - it's gone for now, but it was sure nice while it lasted.  Thank you for WotC, and thank you, dear Readers, for sticking around.</p><p>Unofficial soundtrack addition, "Clarity" by Zedd, Foxes, courtesy of Spotify . . . or whatever you'd like.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Liss watched Astarion breathe as he meditated on the other side of the fire - slow, rhythmic.  She had heard the stories of vampires, hadn't everyone?</p><p>She didn't understand the rules of his curse - even without the parasite breaking so many of them.  How was he breathing - more specifically, why was he breathing?  What happened to the wine he used to drown his miseries?  Gods knew, he drank enough of it.  <em> How is tonight even going to work, anyway?  He’s dead, right?  No?  Only a little?  </em></p><p>
  <em> And, sweet Tymora preserve me, did I really invite Togs into my bed?   </em>
</p><p>Careful not to move and draw his attention quite yet, she let her eyes slide over his face, taking note of small details.  Finally, after days of true feeding, some of the hollowness had left his cheeks.  The black circles around his eyes had faded to a blue smudge, weariness over exhaustion.  He looked better, but some said that made the blood hunger worse.  </p><p>Was the tadpole stepping in again?  Was he being shaped into a "beautiful weapon" that would be unleashed when it stopped controlling his Hunger?  Was he just given the gifts he needed to kill Cazador?  <em> Fancy magic powers and one pissed off tiefling assassin.   </em></p><p>
  <em> Perfect, clearly. </em>
</p><p>They said all vampires forgot love and turned to power, that they became a plague to their loved ones.  Yet Astarion had a complex heart, a sense of humor, and a hard fought sanity that had survived unimaginable despair.  She had heard his heartbeat, slow yes, but her blood had flowed in both their bodies, and she had felt it. </p><p>His actions reflected her doubt, moreso the longer he was away from captivity.  He had honored his agreement to slake his thirsts against their foes.  He had become quite handy at playing the savior, even if he whinged a bit about it afterwards.  (In truth, she would have more doubts if he didn't.)  She recognized his tells - he was secretly pleased that they had done so well; it was in his eyes and the tiniest smile hiding at the corners of his mouth.  <em> The vain thing had actually wanted more attention, bloody irritating as the Hells and just as audacious. </em></p><p>And of course, there was the promise of tonight.  Finally, she had retired, the voices quieted and the flames of the campfire burned low, the last of the tiefling refugees had filed out to rest in their wagons.  In the end, she had feigned sleepiness to move them along - as a guest of honor, the attendees had honored her by calling the evening to an end and making their drunken way to bed themselves. </p><p>She had resisted feeding her curiosity about him before, but stepping into this unknown place with him meant that she would know him.  <em> Intimately</em>.  Erotic images of them together teased the edges of her mind.  Picturing his lovely hands on her body, being completely at his mercy, sent a shiver through every inch of her.</p><p>There were just so many obstacles and unanswered questions between them.  She could not see a path lit for them in the darkness ahead.  <em> Anyone have a spare Wish lying around though, let me know.  </em></p><p>He still did not move, cross-legged on the other side of the fire, looking terribly elven and mysterious.  His angled face was calm, those dark lashes brushed his cheekbones, slender hands relaxed on muscled thighs.  She suspected that he was far stronger than he appeared, faster, more dangerous.   She could not deny that she was afraid - both the darkness and the moonlight loved him for a reason.  </p><p>
  <em> I fear that I may feel the same - but what comes of loving a monster?  Probably a reasonably fast way to get dead. </em>
</p><p>The camp was finally down.  Opening his eyes, he looked immediately for Liss . . . And found black liquid eyes on him, full of conflicting emotion.  He reached out tentatively with the tadpole's power, and she acquiesced to his intrusion without hesitation. </p><p>
  <em> She trusts me . . . Cares . . . For my welfare . . . Yet she fears me.  I feel it.  Lovely thing, why would you desire the lost and broken thing that I am, this monster?   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Will you surrender to me, all of me, when you are so afraid?   Truly?   </em>
</p><p>He rose, eyes locked with hers.  The movement was sleek, faster than it should be, but he did not want to hide himself from her, not tonight.  How could he hesitate, feign mortality, on the edge of this cliff?  His movements increased the fear in her eyes - his monster stirred.</p><p>He slipped from the camp on silent feet, moving into the now familiar trees of his hunting grounds.  He followed a faded path with vampiric speed. </p><p>He knew she followed. </p><p>He did not wait long.  From his vantage point in the trees, he saw her slip silently along the path.  He stayed into the shadows, taking a moment to watch her unseen.  </p><p>
  <em> Blessed darkness, she is too beautiful for me to touch.  Forgive me, but I don't care.  </em>
</p><p>She had not brought a light along the path, but moved through the night like an old friend.  </p><p>
  <em> Mine.  Gods below, I can't stay away.  </em>
</p><p>Her fear rode her like a lover, intimate, driven into her very marrow.  He stepped out from the tree, bare feet on the forest loam, leathers and shirt abandoned to the leaves. </p><p>"There you are.  I've been waiting."</p><p>She stopped breathing as the moonlight blessed his silhouette, silver beauty that demanded she reach out to him.  All was darkness but for the glimmer of his eyes and the sleek line of his bare shoulders.  The tone of his voice, hungry, artful, pricked her survival senses, and she stilled.  </p><p>He moved to her, close enough to touch.  "Waiting for you since the moment I set eyes on you."  </p><p>He saw her eyes flare, her gaze drawn to his mouth, where his fangs gleamed, sharp and merciless.  He knew instinctively that she imagined him attacking, taking her to the ground without warning.  <em> You are right to fear it.  </em></p><p>"Waiting to have you."  His monster wanted her afraid, flashed fangs, demanded she understand that she was his, that she was no longer in control.  She was alone in the trees with a monster, and his instincts warred between sex and feeding. </p><p>She swallowed hard and forced bravado into her posture.  "You don't have me yet."  Her denial was hollow, she knew, a last moment of resistance before surrender, but she didn’t have to go quietly. </p><p>"Don't I?"  His lips curved at her denial, showing only self-assurance.  He slid a step closer, the ethereal figure before him seemed suddenly so small.  "You're here, and you don't want to talk.  I think . . . " he lowered his voice as he moved closer, "that you want to be seen.  To be .  .  . tasted."  His hand lifted to brush a few strands of hair from her shoulder, barely brushing the side of her face.  She trembled, and his violent heart grew more aggressive.  </p><p>"And what do you want?"  Her voice was breathlessness itself.  The question merely bought her more time, she already knew what he would take - anything she gave him willingly and as much else as he could exploit.  Damned if she could find any reason to argue with that habit - they were very much alike.  They were both sharp edges, reckless desire, hunger, but he had centuries of forced, twisted submission that left exposed nerves and rage.  </p><p>"What do any of us want?"  He held the demon back, but refused to lighten his tone or hide his desire.  "Pleasure.  Yours.  Mine."  He crowded her purposely, eyes intense and hard.  "Our . . . " he inhaled the scent of her life, leaned next to her ear, and lowered his voice to the barest sound, " . . . mutual ecstasy."</p><p>Her breathing was ragged.  He scented her arousal and terror.  He hadn't even touched her yet, and her need for him overwhelmed her.  </p><p>"That's what you want, isn't it?"  His voice, always seductive, rolled over her now like a relentless current.  "To lose yourself in me?"  </p><p>Finally he looked uncertain; the vulnerability in his gaze broke her.  Hope glittered in unimaginable black despair, a plea to take all of him, to strip all her barriers down.  To let him in. </p><p>
  <em> To lay his claim.    </em>
</p><p>She nodded, eyes wide.  Truth be told, she had been his for weeks, every since that night in the woods, maybe even before.  There was no space for another in her mind, he had fed from her and shared pain and pleasure and humor - she was caught, and she didn't want to leave the trap. </p><p>“I thought so.”  His voice rumbled a bit, and his eyes dropped to half mast in expectation, a gleam of satisfaction in their depths.  He came to her, strong fingers wove through her hair and he kissed her, not with hesitation but with expectation and her fear floated away for the moment.</p><p>His iron hold belied the soft, cool touch of his kiss.  She breathed him in, earth and steel, a gentle invasion.  He pulled her close then, letting her feel his need.  </p><p>She pressed back against him, and his thoughts evaporated. </p><p>Arms hot with life came around his shoulders, slim fingers slid into his curls, and she matched his kisses with her own.  He ran his hands over her hips, wanting to sink in his nails and take her immediately in every way he could.  Still, he forced himself to rein in the urge to drag her down and ravage her until she screamed his name, fighting the demand of his darkest proclivities. </p><p>He managed to be gentle until a hesitant tongue tip tested the sharpness of a canine.  </p><p><em> Blessed Shar</em>.  </p><p>The sensation sent stolen blood rushing from his brain, and for a moment he was so overwhelmed with the sensation of her making love with his vampire that he forgot how to use his lungs. </p><p>Then she sharply inhaled, and blood called to him.  His senses immediately narrowed to where he had nicked her - his fangs were sharp as glass.  The blackness of undeath shot across his mind, and his knees nearly buckled at the spike of lust.  </p><p>He felt her stiffen, clearly afraid she had made a terrible misstep.  A growl slipped from him when she went to move away . . . if she moved, if she tried to run, the monster would chase her and drag her into the oblivion of death.  </p><p>He tightened his arms, a last effort to keep his mind in control.  He still smelled her blood, could feel her heart racing as she fought to remain still, but only one rule reigned over his vampire - the drive of a predator. </p><p>She did not resist, instead she laid her head against him, neck exposed.  Bewitched by her unexpected submission and free of compulsion, the vampire demanded he indulge himself, welcomed and desired. </p><p>He breathed in the scent of her hair, the heat from her body brushing him as he peeled off her armor, leaving her clothed by the night air.  He could not help it, he lightly touched his tongue to her throat - a painful sound blocked his throat as his needs warred.  She let out a rough breath, turning her head to give him better access.  </p><p>The monster retreated just enough to let him slide the lightest touch of sharpness down the skin of her neck. </p><p>She swore she saw stars behind her eyelids as he moved over the sensitive place that remained from his bites.  A shudder passed through her body.  "Gods, Astarion . . . " </p><p>He lifted her without effort to straddle his waist, drinking in her kisses.  Only the smallest scraps of fabric lay between them.  He pressed her back into a nearby tree, moving against her softness and drawing a gasp from her mouth.  </p><p><em> Damn this monster.  </em> The smallest voice of reason intruded.  <em> I am barely holding it together</em>. </p><p>When she pulled back and met his eyes, smoldering as deep as his darkest needs, he felt his stomach drop.  Quick as a cat, she twisted in his grasp, sliding a leg free.  Her foot hooked his  knee and swept it from beneath him.  </p><p>Bringing all his speed to bear, he managed to keep her safe from the fall, landing with a shock on the forest floor.  His surprised eyes met hers.  Dark amusement assaulted him, one side of her mouth lifted and she pinned him with a look he had not imagined to see in two centuries.  Certainty met desperation, and she drew the mass of red curls from her neck. </p><p>Realization hit him like a dagger to the throat, and his eyes narrowed in a moment of unexpected victory.  His arms snaked around her, and he rolled them both, reversing their positions in a practiced move.  He let his weight rest against her center, stomach clenching with fierce joy as he fell into the burning heat of her skin. </p><p>
  <em> Bloody damnation . . . I don’t deserve this, but I’m taking it nonetheless. </em>
</p><p>Her surrender ringing through what was left of his shredded thoughts, he slid his tingling fangs into her carotid.  She made a sound that could have been pain or passion, but it mattered so little.  He could not have pulled away from her if he tried.  He took a long pull, and her life spilled into him, soothing his parched throat. </p><p>He withdrew as sanity came to him, and blood welled from the wounds.  “Liss . . . I need to . . . <em> Ohh </em> . . . “  The power from her blood, rich with fear and arousal washed over his thoughts like a drug, his eyes widened as the wave hit him as before.   <em> Such a . . . delicious thing.  </em>She coated his tongue, enveloped him in the feel of life and warmth, for a moment stole his speech. </p><p>Blood seeped into leaves below them. She stared up at him, at the beatific expression he wore.  Still watching his face, ever so carefully, she ran her hands down his sides, cool soft skin taught beneath her palms.  She had worried needlessly what he might feel like - he was muscular and strong, but cool like water.  She did not want to stop touching him.  She grabbed his hips and pulled him down to her, sensation closing her eyes. </p><p>In his current state, his nerves already on fire, it was nearly enough to end him.  He lacked the mental acuity to feign mortal movement in his rough shape, and she startled against him as his face suddenly pressed to hers, and he pulled the final barriers away.  Her heart raced, fear and need blending to perfection. </p><p>Soft hands fluttered on his shoulders, eyes squeezed closed.  His heart beat against her slowly, thrumming with her own vitality. </p><p>He felt a moment's hesitation when she discovered the mass of scars on his back, but he took her mouth in a deep, dark kiss and her fingers flexed in response.</p><p>She didn't draw away, not even when a drop of blood seeped from her lip.  He tasted her, and he purred his pleasure into her mouth.  The monster and his host were for once in full accord - damp heat waited for him and her blood was his for the taking.  </p><p>He pulled back, for a moment, with the vampire riding him hard.  His eyes burned with the flame of his curse and she shivered at the alien coldness of his expression.  He brooked no doubt, just took both her hands in one of his and trapped them above her.</p><p>With her thus restrained, he slid to the side, revealing all that had been hidden to his sight.  He could not stop the quake of his hand as he traced her form, watching her face as her eyes squeezed closed.  Her breasts were small, her hips slim, but everything was sleek, muscled and compact.  </p><p>"Eyes open, Liss."  His voice commanded, allowing her no quarter from the sensations that were coming.  He had tasted her, and he fully intended to have her as he would, without mercy. </p><p>Her eyes fluttered open, huge in the darkness.  She was flushed with passion, so much blood flowing just below her skin . . . and swift as a cobra, he was fastened onto the side of her lovely breast, the softness of her skin against his lips, nectar sweeter than the finest wine flowing between them. </p><p>She let out a scream, and her body bent like a taut bowstring.  She was still taking in a breath when he opened her and slipped two fingers inside, brushing unerringly against her sensitive nub.  She gasped for air, losing all ability to fight the overwhelming sensations, falling open for him to touch at will while she writhed in his grasp. </p><p>He released her breast, watching twin rivers of blood trace their way down her side.  He dragged his tongue over the punctures in time with the rhythmic movements of his hand, sending insistent shocks of pain and pleasure coursing through her whether she willed it or not.  </p><p>She trembled like a leaf, coating his fingers with dampness, repeating his name, her voice breaking as the sensations battered her.  When he felt her start to spasm, he sank his fangs around a rosy nipple, drawing his name from her throat in a raw scream as she came violently around his hand.  He forced her to be still as the waves drowned her, continuing his torture until he had wrung every last sensation from her body.  </p><p>It was pure music as she retreated to sighs, wrapping him in a heady space while he sipped from her luxuriously.   He released her from mouth and grasp when she sagged, boneless. </p><p> "Oh Gods, Astarion."  </p><p>He pulled back to see her fully open to him, her breasts and shoulder blood smeared, her hair mussed around her face, flushed rose from her orgasm.  He swore in that moment he had never seen anything so exquisite in all his centuries.  </p><p>"My sweet Liss," he made no attempt to cover the arrogance in his tone, " . . . you are mine, now." </p><p>She gave a slow blink, coming out of the haze of her release.  "Is that so?" </p><p>He smiled his most infuriating smile, sharp and white in the dim light.  "You surrendered, my dear.  You are all in."</p><p>To prove his point, he let his tadpole slide against her mind, slipping tendrils of writhing intrusion into her mind.  She let out a ragged breath as her mind spun away, suddenly, heart-stoppingly aware of her submissive position in their coupling.</p><p>He did not give her time to consider the ramifications of her situation.  He slid over her, spreading her to cradle his hardness.  He took her mouth in another kiss, this one gentled to near apology for his cruel show of power.  Up close, the remnant of her blood stained her lips.  </p><p>"Do not worry, darling."  His voice smoothed over her senses.  "I can be sweet." </p><p>Her laugh was breathless, as she moved against him.  "Mmmm . . . “  Her satisfaction was clear in her tone.  “But will you?" </p><p>A small rumble of real laughter spilled through him as he slid slowly into her, taking her as far as he could, lifting her hips to allow him clear passage.  He had been so well fed in recent days, that he felt the tip of her womb.  She moaned at his penetration, small gasps fell from her lips at the slow fullness of his entry.  He had to agree; she felt marvelous - hot, tight, and incredibly wet. </p><p>He dipped his head to a spot low on her neck, pulling back and timing another long thrust with his bite.  She let out a sobbing groan, and he rewarded her with another slide, faster, still deep in her core. </p><p>"'Starion . . ." His name came out on a sigh, and he drew long on her neck, slipping in and out in a rhythm that would drive them both to insanity.  </p><p>He lifted his head from her neck, and pressed his mouth to hers as he moved, leaving her lips red with her own vitality. "Gods' curses, Liss, you're . . . ahhh . . . So perfect."</p><p>She grasped his hair then, and dragged his mouth back to hers, nipping his own bottom lip while she lifted to meet him.  The copper taste of blood was strange, the wounds he left burned, but she took his power into her and feasted on it and did not care. </p><p>Her kisses were hot, they burned as if she held the ability to destroy him within her.  He could not hold the slow, deep pace any longer.  He moved more quickly, burying his face in her neck, sips of blood and blessed friction pushing him close to the edge.  He felt her legs shake around him, her hands closed on his shoulders as her orgasm came.  She dragged him over the edge with her, and he pulled himself from her throat as the wave rode him, fearful that he would harm her.  It felt as though four centuries of emotion burst from him in a moment when his release hit. </p><p>He came back to himself in silence, wrapped in her within and without, the taste of her still on his tongue.  He remained where he lay for long moments, marveling at his first taste of peace in centuries,  Liss idly twirled his hair, breathing slowly, her eyes met his and found them gentled, content, with a soft expression she thought might be wonder.</p><p>He slid to her side, and she rested her head against his shoulder.  In that silent peace, she drifted to sleep, secure.  </p>
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